What Legacies You Leave Behind
by Speaker for the Dead aka 17
Summary: A six-year old is told the wondrous story of the voyages of the Starship Voyager which ended in tragedy...
1. Default Chapter

****

What Legacies You Leave Behind (Part 1)

- A_ Voyager_ bedtime story

by Lt 17 of 26 aka fROzen TaTTooGaL™ (MERSTS)

__ ****

Scant efforts of our lives and toil

Do nary remain in deed nor kind

But shall be remembered fore'er more

In what legacies we leave behind.

--June Yang, "What Legacies We Leave Behind_" _

The child curled up on her bed, unable to sleep. She tossed and turned restlessly in the cool night air to no avail. Finally she gave up, hoping that someone would come in to help her sleep. She felt so lonely. Her father used to tell her bedtime stories, but now h e was away a lot. She sighed.

A soft sound made her sit up, curious. A golden sparkle was appearing in the air. Slowly, a person began taking form in the sparkle. The child's eyes widened. It was so pretty, like an angel had come into her room. Finally the sparkles went away and an angel stood there. She was beautiful, tall with a halo of golden hair, and she wore a shimmering suit like the child always imagined that angels wore. She had no harp or ring around her head, but she wore strange makeup, which might be the modern equivalent of them. 

"Are you an angel?" the child asked her.

She paused and regarded the child for a moment. "Yes," she said finally. "You may call me that."

The child smiled and curled up on the bed again. "I can't sleep. Will you tell me a bedtime story?"

The angel smiled softly and sadly as she settled down by the child's bedside. "Yes, if it pleases you. I will tell you a story about a ship who was lost, and the tale of her crew."

The child nodded, snuggling happily in the pillow. "Is it a happy story?"

The angel paused. "It could have been. But it is not."

The girl nodded dreamily. "Tell me."

"Once upon a time, there was a starship called the USS Voyage_r. She was lost and far away from home…"_

The USS _Voyager_ had been traveling for more than six years now. She had come far from her point of origin but she still had a long way to go to her final destination. During those six years, she had encountered many hardships, many difficulties along the way, but she'd always pulled through. Sometimes she won, other times she suffered losses. But she'd done half her journey this far, and she would, somehow, get through the rest of it.

The crew of the starship were a wonder in themselves. Some of them belonged to Starfleet, others were rebels, and then there were those who just came along for the ride. Over the years they'd learned to work together, despite their differences. It was a small community of people, just over a hundred, working together in one small ship, all alone in their sector of the universe. They were close-knit and dedicated to both their ship and each other.

Captain Kathryn Janeway was sitting in her quarters, sipping her usual cup of coffee. Kathryn was a remarkable woman. She'd bonded the crew, both Starfleet and rebels, during the first hard years. Her determination and passion towards the ship and the crew had inspired deep respect and loyalty amongst her crew. On some bad days, it seemed like she was the only one who could hold the ship together, standing on the bridge with firm eye and all the reins in her hand.

Her door chimed softly, and she put down the book she'd been reading. "Come," she said. 

The door slid open and admitted Seven of Nine.

Seven was a distinct oddity on the crew of the _Voyager_. Once a member of the fearsome Borg, a half machine, half human group of creatures with a single hive mind, Seven had been unwillingly torn from the Collective and slowly integrated into the _Voyager_ crew. The transition had not been an easy one and caused much grief on all sides. But it was partly because of Kathryn's stubbornness that she'd come thus far. It was, as Security Chief Tuvok would have said, illogical, but Seven sometimes that she owed everything she had to this extraordinary woman.

She put a padd down on Kathryn's table. "Captain, sensors in Astrometrics have detected an unusual energy reading from Sector four three three one."

Kathryn picked up the padd and scanned it. "Unusual energy readings?" 

"Yes." Seven gave her a pointed glance. "They are consistent with the energy release of a Einstein-Rosenberg type wormhole formation."

That caught Kathryn's attention immediately. "A wormhole, opening mere light-years away from here?"

Seven nodded. "It would seem so."

"How big is it?"

"Estimation puts the diameter of the wormhole to be half an AU across."

Kathryn's eyebrows raised. Half an AU was a phenomenal size for a wormhole of any kind- big enough to swallow the whole of planet Earth. "Are you sure?"

"Quite certain, Captain."

"Well…" Kathryn could hardly keep her excitement down. Wormholes provided the opportunity for a instant route home. "A phenomenon of this scale should be worth investigating." She tapped her commbadge. "Janeway to bridge."

"Chakotay here," replied the deep, comforting voice of her exec officer. "Captain, I was just about to tell you, but sensors are picking up a number of wormholes opening up in sector 3-3-1…"

Kathryn stood, intrigued by the news. "More wormholes?" If they were making enough disruptions in the space-time fabric for even the ship's main sensors to pick up and alert them, there had to be several, at least.

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Unfortunately, Commander?" Kathryn thought it was strange. Wouldn't the mere prospect of the possibility of getting home be enough to put them in high spirits for days?

"The wormholes are appearing in formation, Captain." He paused. "If size and number were any indication, I'd be inclined to think that they were some sort of invasion force."

Kathryn and Seven exchanged a sharp glance. For all the years she'd known him, Chakotay was not someone who was easily ruffled, and if anything looked like an invasion force to him, it most likely was. "I'm on my way," said the captain, and she burst out of quarters, her book forgotten.

Three hours later, the _Voyager_ was on course for sector three three one. Kathryn was in her ready room, conferring with Tuvok and Chakotay.

Tuvok was the Vulcan Chief of Security on the _Voyager_. He was an old friend of Kathryn's, having served with her since her first command on the _USS Bonestell_. Chakotay, on the other hand, was an ex-Starfleet officer who had defected to join the rebels years ago. The original mission of the _Voyager_ had been to capture the ship he'd captained from the turbulent Badlands. That was, of course, until both ships had been unwillingly thrown into the Delta Quadrant, and through a series of incidents, Chakotay had wound up as first officer on the _Voyager_. Over the years, he'd served faithfully and loyally with Kathryn, and between the two men who now stood before her, there was no one on the ship whom Kathryn trusted more.

Tuvok was speaking at present. "Captain, I do not believe our current course of action is prudent to the situation." He frowned. The main problem with his captain, he knew, was that she could become too reckless when it came to matters of science. As security chief, however, he'd come to inherit that slight edge of paranoia that came with the job. Logic demanded it. One had to be perceptive in all situations to be able to predict any kind of outcome. It all followed the most cherished Vulcan philosophy, Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations.

Kathryn glanced askance at him. "'Not prudent', Tuvok?"

"_Voyager_ is the only Federation starship in this Quadrant, Captain. If it is indeed an invasion force we are headed towards, it would not seem prudent for a ship of one to face what may perhaps, be thousands of vessels armed for hostility."

"Tuvok, you are working on the assumption that it _is_ an invasion force we are looking at," said Kathryn.

"If it isn't an invasion force, we may be making one of the greatest discoveries in subspace physics since the Benjamin Sisko made contact with the Prophet entities in the Bajoran wormhole," said Chakotay.

"You suspect that some higher being may be responsible for the appearance of these phenomena," said Tuvok disapprovingly, reading between the lines. Perception and intuition were one thing, but imaginative flights of fancy were another completely. They were counterproductive, purposeless, and most illogical.

"I didn't say anything of that sort, Tuvok," rebutted Chakotay, but he looked amused. Tuvok found nothing funny about the situation, and he still found the human propensity for seeing humor in every possible situation disconcerting.

Before the debate could continue further, however, Ensign Kim's voice filtered over the intercom. "Captain, we will be dropping out of warp soon."

"Understood," replied the captain. She pushed her chair back and stood up. "Gentlemen?"

They exited the ready room together and stepped onto the bridge. Ensign Harry Kim relinquished the captain's seat. Harry was a young man, on his first assignment when _Voyager_ left on her maiden mission-which, in a sense, it was still on. Although still green and so-called wet behind the ears when he joined the crew, he had, in the ensuing years, matured and grown seasoned to the hardships of space. He returned to his usual post at Ops. 

Kathryn took the middle stage, scanning her bridge and its crew. Tuvok had taken his post at Tactical, Chakotay had returned to his seat by her left. Lieutenant Tom Paris was seated at the helm. Rescued from a Federation penal colony by Kathryn, Tom was recruited to guide the _Voyager_ through the Badlands, and got more than he bargained for when the ship was stranded. He was a fine pilot, and he did his job with pride, even if his attitude and smart remarks were uncalled for at times. "Preparing to drop out of warp, Captain."

"Red alert," said Kathryn. With a dry look shot at Tuvok, she added, "It would be a … prudent course of action."

Tuvok nodded in approval, choosing to ignore her sarcasm.

The streams of light on the viewscreen coalesced into dots as the _Voyager_ dropped out of warp. At Tuvok's recommendation, the _Voyager_ exited into a dense cloud of plasma gas, enough to mask it from the outside world, but not enough to hide the world from its astrometrics and long-range sensors.

Immediately sensor readings began to flash red on consoles. "I'm picking up three… no… four…five… seven alien vessels!" Harry's voice climbed in alarm. "Their numbers keep increasing!"

"An invasion fleet?" asked Kathryn.

"Unknown. There are now fifteen vessels of unknown origin, headed on an intercept course," said Harry.

"Onscreen," said Kathryn crisply.

Immediately the picture on the screen was filled with huge ships on a staggering scale, probably big enough to dwarf a Romulan Warbird. Long and angular, they carried a certain sense of menace on their streamlined edges. Their configuration seemed somehow familiar. 

"Seven, do you recognize any of those ships?" Kathryn asked.

Seven considered the ships on their viewscreen, and a name and number immediately leapt into her brain. The Borg had encountered this species before in the Gamma Quadrant. They were deadly and combative, but their ordered minds and genetic perfection were a great bonus to the Collective. She stiffened. "Yes, I do." 

" They are Jem'Hadar ships."

__

The child frowned, unfamiliar with the terminology. "Who are all those people?" she asked. "Who are the Jem'Hadar? Or the Borg?"

The angel frowned, the expression marring her beautiful face. "The Jem'Hadar were a race of people belonging to the Dominion. They staged a war with the Alpha Quadrant and the Federation."

"And did they win?"

"No, they did not. The Federation, Klingons and Romulans won the war in the end."

"The Romulans? Aren't they bad people?" The child asked, puzzled.. 

"Not anymore."

"Who are the Borg?"

The angel looked disturbed. "The Borg are… a race of people who assimilate other species to achieve perfection. None of the Borg have volition of their own; they do the bidding of the Collective mind."

The child pondered the fact for a moment, then nodded. "Continue with the story."

Jem'Hadar… The word sent sparks of alarm shooting through Chakotay's mind. The memory of the letters from the Alpha Quadrant stood starkly in his memory- the Jem'Hadar, pawns of the Dominion, which effectively did in several months what the Federation failed to do to the Maquis in years- wipe them out. He drew in a sharp breath. He didn't know much about these alien vessels, but he remembered that they were equipped with some sort of deadly and unstoppable technology.

"The Jem'Hadar…" Kathryn frowned. "The Dominion?"

"Precisely," replied Chakotay. "Can you remember anything about them from the files Starfleet sent us?"

Kathryn paced the bridge, a sure sign that she wasn't at ease with the situation. "As I recall, each ship is heavily armed, and more than a match for even the biggest flagships of the Federation."

"And here we are, with fifteen of them out there against one small Intrepid class starship." Tom looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I'd say judging by looks alone that our prognosis isn't good."

"Each ship is armed with a polaron beam disruptor," Tuvok said crisply. "It's effects are quite… devastating."

Kathryn paused and turned. "Tuvok, can you detect if the ships are powering weapons?"

Tuvok worked his console for a moment, and shook his head almost imperceptibly. "Unknown, Captain. Until more tactical data is downloaded into the ship's computer, I am afraid that the charging of the polaron beams with remain undetectable by our sensors."

Kathryn resumed her pacing. "If I am not mistaken, Starfleet won the war against the Dominion, causing them to retreat back to the Gamma Quadrant. What we may be seeing is merely a fragment of their armada." She turned to face Harry. "Ensign, what's the time to intercept?"

"Seven minutes, forty-two seconds," he reported crisply.

Chakotay glanced at Kathryn in concern. "We have no knowing whether these ships will be hostile. For all we know, they may just be derelict ships restored by some passer-bys for their own uses."

Kathryn stared at the viewscreen. She stood in her usual relaxed stance, but he could tell by the tension in her shoulders how worried she was. He couldn't blame her. Kathryn might have an iron will and the heart of a lion, but her first concern was the well being of her ship and crew. As long as her ship was safe, she couldn't care less what happened to herself; she was that dedicated. And right now they were precariously perched on the edge of jeopardy.

"We need to find out if they're hostile without risking contact…" she muttered, and he could tell that she was thinking hard to find a solution out of the situation. "Tuvok, could we prepare a probe, something which has clear Federation markings but won't leave an ion trail which may lead back to us?"

"Bait for the Jem'Hadar?" Chakotay prompted.

"Exactly." She flashed him a rare smile in a situation so tense. "If they decimate it on sight, it'd be a signal for us to start rethinking our approach."

"Or rather, turn and run as fast as possible," muttered Tom from the helm.

"I have prepared the probe," Tuvok informed her. She gave a barely perceptible nod. "I am deploying the probe now."

On the viewscreen, the slender gray probe shot away from _Voyager_ and traced an arcing path towards the hulking warships. Chakotay held his breath as he watched the activity of the ships carefully. Would they? Wouldn't they?

A fiery orange blossom near the ships answered his question.

"We have lost all contact with the probe," Tuvok reported needlessly.

"Now what?" asked Tom.

"Captain." Harry's voice was tense, flighty. "The Jem'Hadar are scanning us."

Kathryn stiffened. "Mr. Paris, get us out of her-"

She had barely gotten through her sentence when the ship pitched violently at a 45-degree angle, throwing everyone backwards. Chakotay was slammed sideways, hard, on the chair's armrest, knocking the wind out of him. Behind him, Harry yelled as the console next to him erupted in a conflagration, spewing thick bilious smoke everywhere. In horror, Chakotay watched as Kathryn flew across the bridge, connected with the railing separating Tactical from the viewer, and crumpled to the floor, motionless. Despite the pain in his chest, Chakotay struggled to his feet. "Damage report!"

"Shields down to fifteen percent," Tuvok said ominously. "There are power outages on decks four, six, nine to twelve inclusive-"

An urgent chirp from Engineering interrupted Tuvok's litany of ills. "Captain! The containment field has sustained heavy damage in the attack. I'm going to have to shut down warp drive or risk a core breach!" exclaimed the voice of Chief Engineer B'Elanna Torres.

Chakotay's lips tightened. The last thing he wanted to do was to be left without a fast way out in this situation, but they had no choice. "Do it, Lieutenant."

"Commander?" B'Elanna was perturbed. "Where's the captain? What the heck just happened?"

"The Jem'Hadar apparently fired two polaron beams at our deflector dish and initiated a feedback loop overload," said Tuvok. "It is unlikely that the ship will be able to withstand another attack."

"Commander," said Seven tautly from her station, "we may prevent the recurrence of the attack by shutting down our deflector dish."

Chakotay nodded. "Do it, Seven."

"Commander, we are being hailed by the lead ship." Harry reported.

"Put them on."

The bridge of the Jem'Hadar ship appeared onscreen. It's appearance shocked Chakotay a little, who always imagined it to resemble Cardassian architecture with its brutal angular edges and darkling metal. A man with ornately ridged ears and purple eyes occupied what presumably was the commander post of the bridge. _A Jem'Hadar?_ wondered Chakotay.

"A Vorta," Seven muttered.

__

Vorta… Jem'Hadar… this is a ballgame of a different kind, Chakotay realized with a chilling at the pit of his stomach. "This is Commander Chakotay of the Starship _Voyager_," he began. "We mean your ships no harm-"

"Federation starship," said the Vorta ingratiatingly, " I am Weyoun. And you will be destroyed." 

"We are alone in this quadrant. We're only trying to get home, and we mean you no harm."

"You are _weak_." A different, deeper voice cut into their conversation. Chakotay saw a second figure in the shadows, behind the Vorta. _Now is_ that _a Jem'Hadar?_ wondered Chakotay. "You will be destroyed," he said, reiterating the Vorta's point. The transmission cut.

"The Jem'Hadar ships are firing!" exclaimed Harry.

"Mr. Paris, get us out of here, full impulse!" Chakotay commanded.

Tom didn't need to be told a third time. The _Voyager_ spun a hundred and eighty degrees as fast as it could and limped away at full impulse, hopefully able to hide in the treacherous clouds of plasma gas better than their pursuers.

"Kathryn." Chakotay bent over his fallen captain. She was unconscious but still alive, breathing shallowly. There was a deep gash on the back of her head which bled fairly profusely. Seven was by his side in an instant, scanning her with her built-in technology. 

"Several lacerations and a minor concussion," she diagnosed. "She'll be fine."

Chakotay gently cradled her head in his arms._ How many times must I tell her to brace herself in an emergency?_ he thought. _This isn't the first time, but I hope it'll be the last. _"B'Elanna," he said heavily, addressing the chief engineer, "how long will it take for the warp drive to be repaired?"

"At least seven hours," she predicted glumly over the intercom. "And only if we put all the other unrelated repair jobs on the back burner."

Chakotay glanced at Tuvok. "What are the odds of us being able to outrun the Jem'Hadar for that long?"

"A slim chance, at most," replied Tuvok, confirming his greatest fears. 

Chakotay glanced down at the senseless form in his arms and gripped her more tightly. "Then we need to find a way out, _fast_."

Weyoun was certain the Founder was not pleased. Not pleased at all. How could he have let that damnable Federation ship slip out of his grasp like that? It was one trait of these Starfleeters that troubled him greatly: their tenacity and their dexterity. But in the end they were no match for the power of the Dominion. They should not have been, if not for those untrustworthy Cardassians.

He bowed obsequiously to the Founder before him. The shapeshifter was seated at his desk, and glanced at him with barely disguised disdain. "You have failed."

Weyoun tried hard to conceal his dismay at being chastised so. He had great respect for this Founder- in fact, he had more than great respect for any Founder, but this one, in particular, deserved it more. He was one of the few who'd escaped the debilitating effects of the disease that had plagued the Changelings, and subsequently avoided the unholy influences of the fake Founder, the one who'd worked in league with the enemy. The glory of the Great Link was falling apart, tainted by the thoughts of this sacrilegious renegade. The Founder before him was one of the few left who still believed and worked for the old aims of the Great Link. As was Weyoun, faithful servant to the last, several times over. 

"I am sorry. The resourcefulness of this particular ship was… unexpected." It was a weak excuse, he knew, but it was also the truth. Perhaps too many months away from battle had softened him. "I will do better the next time. I will not fail."

The Founder nodded in approval. "See to it that you don't." He tapped a few controls on his screen and called up the diagram of their attack plan on the Delta Quadrant. "I will not allow months of work to be thwarted by this paltry ship. They are nothing compared to the spoils which await us."

"Yes." Weyoun bowed in reverence.

The Founder clenched his fist. "Once our goal is secured, our might will be unstoppable- in the Alpha Quadrant or any other. Our former glory will be restored. Our domination will be complete."

Weyoun said nothing, awed by the magnitude of the proceedings around him.

The Founder glanced at him. "Now you see the importance of capturing that Federation ship. It has everything we want."

"Yes, Founder."

"You are dismissed. Go." He waved his hand at Weyoun. Weyoun backed away, scraping and bowing, humbled by the greatness in his presence. The Founders would be obeyed. They would _not_ fail. They were _gods_.

__

The child blinked and snuggled sleepily in her blankets. "It's a very nice story." She smiled up at the angels. "I like the way you named all the characters."

The angel smoothed the child's long copper-toned locks. "That will be enough for today," she said. "It is a long story."

"Will you come back tomorrow and tell me more?"

"Of course."

The child smiled blissfully and drifted off to sleep, as the beautiful golden shimmering claimed the earth angel once again.


	2. The Next Day

****

What Legacies You Leave Behind (Part 2)

- A_ Voyager_ bedtime story

by Lt 17 of 26 aka fROzen TaTTooGaL™ (MERSTS)

__

The next day the child didn't even bother to try to sleep. She sat awake, a book propped in her lap, reading deep into the night. Waiting for the angel to appear. Or the sleep-fairy. It didn't matter to her.

At a minute to midnight the shimmering began again. The child put the book away eagerly as the angel materialized in her room. 

"Shall we continue where we left off?" she asked as soon has she had fully coalesced.

The child nodded. "Please do. I've been thinking about nothing else the whole day!"

"That's very good," said the angel, smiling enigmatically at her. And she continued to tell the tale.

The senior crew was gathered in the briefing room. Seven of Nine glanced around the crew. There was Neelix, an exotic Talaxian from this quarter of the universe: cook, morale officer and ambassador. Seven found his perpetually cheery manner fairly annoying sometimes, but he was open and amicable; someone she could easily talk to at any time. Then there was B'Elanna Torres, the half-Klingon engineer. Seven had found her to be hostile and aggressive at first, but they'd grown to tolerate each other over the years, perhaps even to the extent of liking each other. There were times that it seemed to Seven that she would be quite lost without the chief engineer around. It was an enigma to Seven, and she wanted to leave it that way. Humanity itself was an enigma.

And of course there was the Doctor, the only holographic crewmember aboard this ship or any other. Seven's relationship with the Doctor was… special. The way she felt about him was different from the way she felt about anybody else. She might be closest to Kathryn on the ship, but she was rather fond of the Doctor, her mentor and her friend. Some would find it inconceivable that one could grow feelings for a hologram, especially one that was of such irascible manner, but Seven had strong feelings for him, all right. It was yet another mystery of humanity's ways.

The peculiarities of humans and human behavior were the furthest thing on the crew's mind at that moment, however. The situation concerning the Dominion was far more worrying. Inured as they were to the perils of being the lone friendly ship in unfriendly space, they all had been badly shaken by the ferocity of the last attack. The ship would likely bear visible scars for quite a while before they got around to fixing it. If they even lasted that long.

"Seven," said Kathryn, freshly recovered from her hard fall, "what do you remember about the Dominion from the Borg? Do they have any tactical weaknesses?"

Seven frowned. Although she had begun to loathe having to dredge up these memories, unpleasant reminders of her Borg heritage, sometimes they came in useful. She recalled the Jem'Hadar the Borg had assimilated, their ships and weaponry. "The polaron beam generator is almost indestructible," she said. "However, when struck with a high enough dosage of theta-radiation, the generator goes into a lethal energy feedback loop and it begins to vent the energy in any way possible."

"Including on the ship, where it will cause a warp core breach!" exclaimed B'Elanna. "So all we have to do is to find some way of releasing a high amount of theta radiation on one of the Jem'Hadar ships and the resulting radiation waves will destroy all fifteen ships!" She paused and her enthusiasm drained a little. "Like that's the easy part…" she muttered.

"What produces theta radiation anyway?" asked Neelix.

"A transnucleic compression bomb would," replied Harry eagerly. "I did a paper on them for my senior thesis. They're fairly easy to assemble, but they have to be timed, because their design means that they can only be manually activated. Unless you're on a suicide mission, of course, then it wouldn't matter." He chuckled dryly at his own joke, and Tom snorted. The rest of the crew remained silent.

"So in order for them to go off in the Jem'Hadar ship, we'll have to put them in there beforehand," said Chakotay.

"Which means someone has to beam in and put them there," added Kathryn.

"Which will increase the chance of the Jem'Hadar being able to find it," said Tuvok.

"Oh, yeah." Harry looked slightly sheepish. "I also forgot to mention that the bombs are fairly easy to deactivate as well."

"Maybe if we found _really_ good hiding places for the bombs, they wouldn't find it," suggested Tom.

"Bio-signatures!" exclaimed Harry. "They can mask the readings of the bombs so that the internal sensors won't pick them up. So maybe we could immerse the bombs in… I don't know, bioneural gel packs, for instance…." He shrugged. "It might work."

"Bioneural gel-packs don't produce very strong bio-signatures," grumped the Doctor. "Those are produced by the number of highly complex chemical reactions occurring in the body. I suppose that, given time, I would be able to come up with a suitable substitute, however."

"Wait, wait." B'Elanna interrupted. "It seems to me that the problem lies in the design of the bomb, not the workings of the bomb itself. Why don't we redesign the bomb to detonate when remotely activated instead?"

"There isn't enough time," Chakotay told her. "We have one day at the most."

"Isn't there any easier way to produce theta radiation?" Neelix asked.

"Well, some forms of shielding do produce the requisite kind of radiation when struck with high-energy subspace distortion waves," suggested B'Elanna. "If we could erect a metaphasic forcefield or something similar around one of these ships, it just might do the trick."

"But not necessarily more easily," Seven pointed out.

"More so than beaming an away team into a heavily armed Dominion ship to plant bombs before beaming them safely out?" asked Tom.

"Gentlemen, I think it is pointless to bicker like this," said Kathryn, rubbing her forehead absently. "What I want to know is, is the plan feasible? Could we beam into the Jem'Hadar ship and get away with it?"

"There are several weaknesses in the shielding of Jem'Hadar ships," Seven told her. "If we concentrated fire on one spot, there may be a break large enough for a small Away Team to beam in."

Still Kathryn frowned. "I'm not willing to carry out a plan which bases itself on so many uncertainties. Things could go very, very wrong." She sighed. "However, it might seem like we don't have much of a choice. Harry, B'Elanna, Seven, I want the three of you to start work on those TCBs now. The rest of you-" she gestured to her crew- "will think of alternative solutions and also come up with a detailed plan on the modus operandi of the Away Team on the Jem'Hadar ship." She stood up from her chair and leaned forward to address her crew. Her formal, authoritative posture separated her from them, but the additional closeness to the crew helped compensate for it. "We've been through hell and back, people. And we're not going to let the Dominion stop us. We can do this."

It was late at night, and B'Elanna Torres felt so tired she thought she might just fall asleep over her console at any moment. They were in Engineering, bathed in the odd blue glow of the warp core, no longer pulsing but still brighter than any light on the ship. She rubbed her eyes and glanced over at Harry, who was working in tandem with Seven. The ex-Borg still looked impeccably fresh, but Harry looked like he could use a few days' sleep. Even Seven was slightly more irritable than usual. They were all tired, and it was easy to see why: in between shuttling from warp-core repairs and Red Alerts whenever the Dominion ships came too close to finding them, the trio had been scrambling to procure and assemble the TCBs. Kathryn had even come to help them with the spherical bombs in the late evening, assembling a few herself. 

B'Elanna shook her head. If she was tired, the captain had to be even more exhausted. As far as she knew, she'd been on her feet for the past ten hours while she should have been recovering from the hard knock she'd gotten on her head. Tuvok had finally dragged her from Engineering to Sickbay for a checkup and rest. The Doctor had promptly thrown everyone else in Sickbay back to his or her quarters and sealed the place for two solid hours so she'd get some sleep.

Harry grunted from behind her. She turned. "Now what?"

He was bent over the neat stack of bombs they'd made so far. "My memory must be failing. I thought I'd made four of those genuine bombs, but they're only three here."

"You must have mixed it up with one of the decoys." She walked over to the other side of the stack and pulled out a sphere with a red marking on it. "See, I told you."

"Thanks." Harry took the object and put it together with the other real bombs. "Do you think we've got enough decoys here to baffle the Dominion?"

"I hope so," she replied. "I'm too tired to make any more. We've got a ratio of four decoys to every real bomb- that makes it a twenty percent possibility that any bomb a Jem'Hadar picks up and deactivates is going to be the real thing."

"Yeah, after all we only have so much of transperiodic elements," muttered Harry. "I'd sooner build more real ones if I could."

Seven turned from her worktable with a newly assembled decoy in her hand. "That goes without saying, Ensign," she remarked, setting the decoy down with the rest. Harry sat down, bone tired, and B'Elanna followed suit. 

Harry yawned and clapped a hand over his mouth in embarrassment. "Phew. I'm tired."

B'Elanna found herself nodding in agreement. "I think we all are." When Seven didn't protest, she added, "Maybe we should call it a day."

At that moment the doors to Engineering slid open. _Who could that be at this time of the night? _She wondered. _Please don't tell me it's more bad news…_ She turned around and her tired, grumpy frown dissolved into a rare smile. It was Tom, carrying a tray with coffeepot, mugs and a plate of cookies. 

"Hey," he said. "I brought something for our midnight workers."

B'Elanna chuckled. "Actually, we're nearly done now, but those cookies look good." She grabbed one off the plate as Tom set it down on the floor. Then she noticed that her husband wasn't in a particularly good mood. "What?" she asked.

Tom settled down on the floor between B'Elanna and Harry. He looked troubled. "Tuvok and the captain have been working on Harry's simulations of the away team mission, and so far out of the thirty-odd times they have run it, they haven't managed to succeed at all. Not once."

"Simulations are different from the real thing," Seven pointed out.

"Yeah, because they are even more unpredictable than simulations are. That means the prognosis for the mission can only get worse." Tom ran a hand through his hair, rumpling it. "And worse still, Tuvok managed to break into a transmission from the lead Jem'Hadar ship and he found all these battle plans. The Jem'Hadar aren't after us because we're a Federation ship. It's what they want from us. They want our ship intact."

Harry frowned. "What would they want from us?"

"Tactical information, what else?" Tom cast Harry an irritated glance. "We've been through half this quadrant. We've survived the Borg and every other hostile race we've encountered. What more could they want?"

B'Elanna's eyes widened. "So Tuvok was right. It _is_ an invasion force."

"More or less. They won't be satisfied until they have complete dominance over this quadrant."

Seven narrowed her eyes. "Are you suggesting that a second Dominion War is about to be staged in the Delta Quadrant?"

"More or less," repeated Tom. "They steal the wormhole technology from some hapless Gamma Quadrant race, send a fleet over here to gather tactical information and start the offensive, follow up with the main fleet, and then…" he shook his head. "So maybe I don't know all that much about this race, but it seems like they're power-obsessed control freaks who'll stop at nothing for complete dominance. I'm betting that once they've secured the Delta Quadrant they might just strike back with renewed forces at the Alpha Quadrant. And then some."

__

So the whole of the galaxy is in danger, and we're the only thing that's standing in the way, thought B'Elanna. She suddenly felt small and overwhelmed. A whole galaxy, with millions and trillions of beings, all depending on her ability to assemble these bombs correctly and stop the Jem'Hadar fleet before it started. She shut her eyes and tried to imagine the immensity of it, and felt Tom's comforting hand on her arm. "It's all up to us now, isn't it," she said softly, feeling unbelievably stressed. Her appetite had vanished and she now felt vaguely nauseous.

Harry seemed to have difficulty breathing. "There's more at stake here than we ever imagined."

"There must be a more fail-proof method of getting this done," said B'Elanna, but the words sounded weak even to her own ears. She realized the futility of their effort: one small ship against fifteen warships armed to the teeth. _Voyager_ was barely functional at this point of time.

"We could destroy our own ship and prevent the Jem'Hadar from obtaining our tactical information," suggested Seven. "They would not last very long against the Borg."

"Oh, Tuvok _did_ suggest that to the captain," said Tom airily. "She flipped at the mere idea."

"Destroying our ship…" Harry gulped. "Surely we're not that desperate?"

Tom gave him a sharp look. "You wanna bet?" He sighed and leaned against the bulkhead. "You three have been cooped up here the whole day, so I guess you wouldn't really know how desperate the situation is out there. Let me tell you, it's past midnight and the mess hall is still packed to the brim with people thinking their brains out. That's how desperate we are."

B'Elanna suddenly felt inexplicably guilty for not helping them out. "We're not going to be helping much by staying here and making more decoys, are we? Let's go to the Mess Hall and see if we can help with anything."

It was past midnight and Neelix felt like he was nearing the end of his endurance. He's spent the whole day on his feet, cooking, running errands and bracing himself for possible Dominion attacks. Yet the crew showed no signs of letting up. The Mess Hall was crowded, and filled with people tapping at padds or in agitated discussion. The general mood on the ship was tense and jumpy. It had the right to be. From what he'd heard, these Jem'Hadar might just be the second biggest scourge of the universe, next to the Borg. And this crew didn't have too many happy memories of the Borg.

Neelix served another round of coffee to Tuvok and Chakotay, fresh from the late duty shift on the bridge. The two were deep in conversation, discussing the best way to lure the Jem'Hadar to the decoy TCBs and draw attention away from the real ones. Neelix was more worried about getting the away team out of the ship than anything else. He was fairly sure that the crew would be resourceful enough to hide the bombs from the Jem'Hadar. His impression of them so far was that they were big and dumb with no volition of their own: pretty easy to outwit, in fact.

The doors to the Mess Hall slid open and Tom, B'Elanna, Seven and Harry entered. The latter three looked downright exhausted, and Neelix worried for them. They headed for Tuvok and Chakotay's table, and Neelix hastily adjoined the nearest few tables for them. Tom still had his tray of coffee and biscuits, which he distributed.

Chakotay handed B'Elanna the padd they'd been working on. "Take a look at this. Think it'll work?" 

B'Elanna glanced at the padd and nodded absently. "I hope. It's not just the Jem'Hadar finding the bombs that worry me, its them finding the away team, or our ship not being able to withstand the shockwave of fifteen warp-core breaches, or our ship not even being able to survive that long- augh!" She tossed the padd across the table. "So many uncertainties, and too much at stake for anything to go wrong!" 

Chakotay nodded in sympathy. "I know how you feel. Captain Janeway has stressed that repeatedly." He sighed. "However, short of blowing ourselves to pieces before the Jem'Hadar can board us, I don't see any foolproof method of stopping them. And the captain would never permit that unless we were truly desperate."

"But we are!" exclaimed Tom. "And so is she! Don't tell me that that isn't the case, because I know it is, and I know you know that it is too."

"Wait, wait," said Harry. "You're _not_ seriously thinking of destroying _Voyager_ with us all on it, are you? That's ridiculous! We weren't even that far gone when facing the Borg."

"The Borg are a different matter entirely," said Tuvok. "You analogy is inappropriate."

Neelix, sensing the tension at the table increase dramatically, decided to step in. "You must all be very tired," he said. "Why don't we all take the example of the captain, return to our quarters and have a good night's rest and continue tomorrow when we are fresher?"

Seven and Harry glanced sulkily at him, but the rest seemed to concur with his statement. Tom wrapped an arm around B'Elanna's waist and nodded. "I think B'Elanna really needs her beauty sleep."

B'Elanna elbowed Tom, jesting despite the somber mood. "Don't use me as excuse, Tom Paris, you lazy pig." He chortled.

Chakotay shook his head and sighed almost paternally. "I guess Neelix is right. There's little more I can do out here, so I might as well just turn in and get prepared tomorrow." He stood to leave and the rest at the table followed suit. Tom and B'Elanna, of course, would be headed back to their quarters. Seven and Tuvok might stay awake a little while longer in Astrometrics trying to gather as much data as they could, but they had the stamina to do so. Not Chakotay. He needed to rest. Poor Neelix- judging by the looks of it, he probably wouldn't be getting very much sleep that night.

Chakotay had the feeling that most of the crew would be unable to do so either.

He was just about to fall into bed in his quarters when the doorchime rang. "Come," he said, hoping that it wasn't Tuvok, perpetual bringer of bad news.

It was Kathryn, dressed in a silken gray nightgown. He was mildly surprised. She came into the room and stood on the blue rug in the middle, not saying anything for a long while. She looked troubled and distressed, and Chakotay couldn't blame her. He walked over to her and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Is everything alright?" he asked her.

She glanced up at him and smiled crookedly. "Not exactly."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Oh, Chakotay…." she sighed heavily and shut her eyes. "I don't know where to begin."

"Is it about the Jem'Hadar? Because if it is-"

"No, no." She opened her eyes and walked slightly away from him, then walked back until they were standing face-to-face. "I came… to talk about you and me. About what's happening between us."

Chakotay frowned. That was most unusual. "Why?"

She glanced at him. "I'm not sure why, but… Chakotay, I just have to get it off my back. In case anything happens tomorrow… I want you to know."

"Know what?"

Her voice caught in her throat, and she took a few deep breaths. "I want you to know that…" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I love you." 

Chakotay stared at her in utter confusion. "I… I don't understand. I thought we'd established long ago that if we're going to be stuck here in this quadrant, our relationship is going to be strictly professional." He didn't get it one bit. He'd longed for her all these years, but eventually he'd conceded that she was right, and they couldn't be together if they were to command this ship efficiently. Even if he could function that way, she definitely wouldn't be able to. So why this sudden change of heart?

A tear rolled down her soft cheek and Chakotay wiped it away. Kathryn, crying? What in the world was going on?

"I'm sorry," she said finally, "I know that after six and a half years, this must be rather strange to you… but it's the truth. I love you, Chakotay. I've just been hiding from you, hiding behind all these excuses and everything… it's not that we can't work together if we get involved… there isn't anything in Starfleet which prohibits that. I was just afraid… so afraid…" She started to cry.

Chakotay, confused and not knowing what else to do, did the only thing he could. He hugged her.

She clutched him tightly, her tears leaving a cold spot down the front of his pajamas. "It always happened to me, Chakotay! Every time I got attached or seriously involved, something happened… People died or got separated… I must be such a jinx." She shook her head, trembling. "Then after that fiasco with Seska, I thought that you'd never want to be close to anyone again… so I guess I just gave up. I'm so sorry, Chakotay. I'm such a coward."

He hugged her fiercely, tightly. "No, you're not," he insisted firmly. "You're the bravest woman I've ever known, Kathryn. You came here, didn't you? Nobody's ever done this for me. And you know what? I'm completely confident that you'll pull us through this Jem'Hadar crisis, like you pulled us through all those other hard times. And I still love you, Kathryn. I've always loved you." 

They stood together like that for quite a long time. Finally she pulled away from his embrace and stood slightly apart from him, in the middle of the thick navy blue rug. In one fluid motion, she tugged at the string of her silk nightgown and shrugged it off. The gown fell to the floor, revealing that she wore nothing underneath. 

"I want to make everything right," she whispered softly. "I want things to change."

He shook his head. "Kathryn, you don't have to do this if you don't want to-"

"But I do." Her voice was pleading, soft. "All these years… I guessed you've always known. But I was too afraid…" She glanced at him, looking vulnerable and at a loss for words.

"Afraid to get committed," he finished for her.

She nodded. "But it can't stay that way forever… I realized that if I let you slip away from me, I'd lose this opportunity…"

There was such sadness and longing in her eyes. He walked over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Things won't ever be the same after this, you know. We can't ever go back… this is the point of no return."

She clasped his hands. "I understand," she whispered softly. "I don't want them to stay the same." And she reached for his pajama top and slowly began unbuttoning it. 

__

At this point the angel paused. "Do you know what happens next?"

The child nodded solemnly. "Mommy says that when a man and a woman love each other very much, they get together…. I know." Her face grew wistful. "I don't know if I'll ever find someone like that who'll love me so much. Other than my mommy and my daddy."

The angel smiled. "You will. You do not need to know the details, I assume?"

"No," replied the child. "But please continue."


	3. The New Threat

****

What Legacies You Leave Behind (Part 3)

- A_ Voyager_ bedtime story

by Lt 17 of 26 aka fROzen TaTTooGaL™ (MERSTS)

Chakotay lay in bed, unable to sleep. So many things had changed in the course of the day. Unbelievably many things. The Jem'Hadar, saving the galaxy-

-and Kathryn.

He glanced down at her, snuggled against him in the bed, sleeping soundly. He couldn't fathom it, much less believe it. Kathryn, here, in his bed, sleeping against him like he was everything to her in the world. Why? What had he done to deserve this? He studied the outline of her face; her firm nose, strong chin and rounded jaw which made her look so child-like as she slept. He brushed his hand gently on her reddish-brown hair, feeling an inexplicable completeness in himself that overpowered the shadows thrown by the specter of the Dominion. He sighed deeply, contentedly, letting his train of thought run free, trying to understand what had made her abruptly come to him in the first place.

As if she could read his thoughts, Kathryn stirred lightly and awoke, glancing up at him with her clouded blue eyes. "Can't sleep?"

He shook his head. "Too many things on my mind."

"Let me guess: you're probably asking yourself what I am doing here."

"You know me too well."

She sighed and leaned her head on his broad chest. "As a matter of fact, I have no idea why either. It was something that just came over me." She glanced up at him with a mixture of helplessness and empathy. "It had to come sooner or later, though… I mean, I guess it all started with Michael and the Doctor."

"The Doctor?"

She sighed. "We had a little… talk back then about my relationship with Michael," she said, her eyes gazing out into the distance of Chakotay's window. "And I remember he said something… something along the lines of 'you can't have a relationship with a member of your crew… they're all your subordinates.' " She looked away from the window. "And… it was a little thing, but it disturbed me."

Chakotay's brow creased a little. "But that's been your philosophy for the better part of seven years."

"I know. That's why it bothered me."

"I don't understand."

"It's just the way he said it… 'they're all your subordinates'. It felt as if I was in a classification apart… all on my own. And the more I thought of it, the more I felt alone… I mean, Chakotay, how many people on board this ship see me more as a friend than as an authority figure? I can never have the closeness of relationships I desire from my crew because of the lofty mantle of Starfleet on me."

"That's not true, Kathryn. We're all your friends- "

"It's not true and you know it. I mean, look at Tom and B'Elanna… Seven and Naomi… and I realized that as long as I used my rank as I do it'll always be a barrier there." She faced him, her eyes distressed. "Do you think I'm nuts, Chakotay?"

"No-"

"Because I do, all the time. I'm nuts, Chakotay, I'm obsessed with my ship and her crew and Starfleet principles when we're so far out it doesn't really matter anymore. And I can't shake it even if it stands between the two of us." She gave him a plaintive look. "Isn't it sad, Chakotay? I love Starfleet more than the man who means the most to me."

"That wasn't what you said earlier. You said you were just using Starfleet as an excuse to hide…"

"Yes, I know! That's one of the explanations why. There are so many… it's such a complex issue, Chakotay! And between commanding the ship and being strong for the crew I haven't had enough time to think about all my trivial personal things. I've stood by my personal philosophies since the Academy days and I'm not the kind to second-guess myself… but, sometimes they get so sorely tested… There are times when I look in the mirror and don't even know what I'm looking at. I get so confused."

He wrapped a comforting hand around her shoulder. "Then I'll tell you what I see. I see a woman, strong-willed and determined, and an undying passion to bring her crew home. I see someone who is selfless and willing to sacrifice herself for the sake of others. Someone who holds all of us together and prevents us from falling into despair and anarchy. Someone who watches over us… protects us."

She gazed at him, eyes wide. "Really?"

He nodded, clasping her hand to his bare chest as they lay, skin to skin. "Yes," he replied, smiling.

She closed her eyes and leaned against him. "It's going to work out, Chakotay. I know it will."

About the two of us?" he gazed at her hopefully.

"No, about everything. One way or the other, it'll be fine. This ship is so lucky to have you onboard, Chakotay."

"And about the two of us?" 

"We'll see how things go, Chakotay, we'll see." She clasped her hands lightly in his. "I glad we had this talk."

He just smiled at her.

__

The angel spoke with such deep passion that the child's eyes were misting over. "That's so sweet," said the child. "And so sad." She pulled the covers around her thoughtfully and looked out of her room window. "Can anyone actually be so devoted to what they believe in and what they love?"

"Unquestionably, yes."

"I don't understand at all. How come I never feel the same way?"

The angel placed a hand on her head gently. "You will understand when you grow older."

The child brightened. "You think so?"

"You have my assurances."

The child smiled dreamily. "I want to be a scientist and explorer when I grow up. Like the people on the ship." She looked at the angel. "What did you want to be when you were little?"

The angel seemed lost in thought for a moment. "I wanted to be a dancer."

"But you became an angel instead." The child smiled. "And you went around telling fairy tales to little children to help them sleep."

She seemed amused. "Do you think that I am telling you a fairy tale?"

"Of course it has to be. It hasn't happened yet, has it? It takes place in the future. There isn't any starship Voyager_ or Captain Kathryn Janeway." The child giggled, and settled into her blankets. "But I like the story."_

"I thought you might. That is why I will be returning tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? Does that mean no more for tonight?" The child pouted a little.

"It is late. You must rest. Perhaps I will come earlier tomorrow and tell you more of the story."

"Okay."

"Good night." She leaned over the child to tuck her in. "Sweet dreams." 

The angel arrived earlier the next day as she promised. "Perhaps I will be able to finish the story today," she told the child.

"Aww, don't," the child replied. "Then I will have nothing to look forward to!"

"On the contrary," rebuffed the angel, "you will have the rest of your life to look forward to."

"The rest of my life?"

"Many people do not cherish their future enough until it is too late. I must try to help you learn to appreciate it." 

"Okay, but will you continue with the story first?" 

Harry awoke early the next day to do more preparations for the soon to come confrontation with the Dominion. At 0835 hours the captain called for a crew conference.

To him, everyone looked tired and stressed. They sat around the table in silence, nursing cups of coffee and bad headaches. He kept scanning over the contents of his padd, wondering what the day held in store for them. So far they'd evaded the Dominion sensors for over twelve hours, a fairly phenomenal record, and way beyond Tuvok's estimates. He hid a slight grin. It looked like his and B'Elanna's deployment of the dispersion field had helped mask their ion signature for a while at least.

He paused in the fifth perusing of his padd and sighed in irritation. The captain and Commander Chakotay were uncharacteristically late, keeping everyone waiting while they could have been off doing something useful. He shook his head and started tapping at his padd again.

Truth to tell, he was more nervous than he had been in quite a long while. He'd heard more than enough Dominion War horror stories from the monthly data dumps from Starfleet, and he wasn't all that sure he was eager to go on a head-to-head confrontation with them. And all this depressing talk about blowing up _Voyager_ as a last ditch resort to create the requisite theta radiation which would destroy the Jem'Hadar ships… he hoped it was just the pessimists talking.

The doors to the briefing room slid open. _Finally_, he thought. He looked up to see if it was the captain or Chakotay- and his jaw nearly dropped. Not only had the two of them come strolling into the room together, they were _holding hands_, perfectly relaxed in their closeness together. In full view of the entire senior crew, and making no effort to hide it. _Whoa, whoa, whoaaa_, he thought. _Am I seeing right?_ He shot a look over at Tom and B'Elanna, both of whom seemed to be delighted at this turn of proceedings. _Well, this could prove to get things real interesting. If we get through this ordeal intact, that is._

Kathryn and Chakotay settled down at their usual seats. "We're sorry to be late," said Kathryn, but we had a few things to settle. But, I promise, this will be the last time I'm late for a meeting I call. Now, about our offensive on the Jem'Hadar." She smiled at Harry. "Ensign?"

Harry took the cue and called up the plan of the Jem'Hadar ship on the viewscreen. "This is it," he said, gesturing at the screen. "The ship we want to infiltrate. We've only managed to do long range passive scans of it, so the details are a little sketchy, but we'll have to make do.

"So far Lieutenant Torres, Seven and I have made twenty TCBs, only four of which are genuine. The rest are all decoys, meant to distract the Jem'Hadar from picking up the real ones. Each of these bombs are going to be encased in a bio-organic substance, which will hopefully help mask the transnucleic signature of the real bombs. The real bombs are all going to be set against key points of the ship's infrastructure near the polaron beam generator, here, here and here." Red flashing dots appeared on the diagram, indicating the key structural points. 

"Alright. All these bombs have to be activated only _after_ beam-in either by hand or by a short-range transmission activator. We've programmed them to detonate after seven minutes, which gives the away team ample time to escape and _Voyager_ to move as far away as possible," he told them. "We need a minimum of three personnel on the Away Team to be able to set up all these bombs before the Jem'Hadar get to them- the away team, that is. We've given an estimate of four minutes to the away team, which means five bombs have to be planted at every minute. It's a close call, but I think we can do it.

"Now, as to getting on and off the Jem'Hadar ship itself. It's the trickiest part, but I think we can manage. What we'll do is to spring out on them from nowhere and use the element of surprise to drill a hole in their shields with an annular modulation beam and transport the crew in. The crew will carry a pre-timed tricobalt device that they will subsequently cause a hull breach and reset their shields. According to Seven, there is a slight delay in the reset of the shields- about five milliseconds or so- but that'll be enough for us to beam out the away team if they locate themselves at predestined coordinates."

He finished and swept his glance over the crew. "The timing is very tight. One misstep and everything could fail." He squared his shoulders. "But I'm sure we're up to it."

"And is there a plan B in case this one fails?" asked Neelix.

Harry swallowed a deep breath, not knowing if he should reply.

Kathryn came to his rescue. "There is a plan B," she said softly. "But we will not deploy it except under the most dire circumstances."

The mood in the room sobered considerably. Harry couldn't help but notice that Chakotay reached his hand out to grasp Kathryn's for reassurances. But this time Harry wasn't smiling.

"We need to assemble an away team and begin preparation as soon as possible," he said. "We don't know how long more we can hide from the Dominion sensors."

"This is a high-risk mission," the Doctor began. "As I am the only holographic member of the crew I hold less risk of being harmed by the Jem'Hadar. Also, one might need my medical assistance on the team."

Kathryn sighed, an unusual tension filling her face. "Thank you for your suggestion, Doctor. But I already had a team in mind: Seven, Tuvok and myself." 

Chakotay angled his face towards her in concern. "Captain-"

Kathryn patted his hand softly, a signal to keep it for later in private. "I've already decided on my choice. I know you will all have objections, but my word is final."

Harry noticed the tension in the room grow, and shifted in his seat.

Kathryn stood and began pacing the room. "The upcoming battle with the Jem'Hadar is not going to be an easy one, and I know that most of you have many reservations about our current course of action. But I assure you that it is all for the best. There is much more at stake here than just the safety of our ship. The Jem'Hadar want our tactical information and whatever data we have on the Delta Quadrant- including over two hundred gigaquads of information on Borg technology and tactics. And that's something I'm not willing to give to them. We will stop these Jem'Hadar at whatever the cost- even our own lives." A strange light came into her eyes. "But we have weathered obstacles just as big as this before and pulled through. _Voyager_ will continue."

"You seem unusually confident of that," remarked B'Elanna gloomily.

Kathryn smiled at her. "As long as the my crew stays together and works together, I have faith in them that they will pull through no matter what." She straightened up, rubbing her hands together slightly. "Any other questions?"

Tom raised his hand, almost in a schoolboy- like fashion. "Are you dating Chakotay?"

The tension in the room broke as the crew erupted in laughter. Even Tuvok was looking amused. Chakotay seemed mortified, but not seriously so.

She chuckled and shook her head. "Alright, I don't like keeping too many secrets on this ship. Yes, in a sense, I am." She walked to Chakotay's side and placed her hand fondly on his shoulder. "After a long period of consideration, I have decided that perhaps some of my personal philosophies need to be rethought." Chakotay reached out and gripped her hand. "We've had our differences and difficulties over the years, yes, but maybe we would work better together if we didn't keep denying our feelings for each other, pushing them away so that we became almost apathetic to each other's needs." Her hand brushed Chakotay's cheek lightly. "It might work, even if it's only for a while."

Neelix beamed. "Why, that's so sweet!"

"Thank you." She was all business again. "Now, if there are no further questions, there is a lot of things we have to do before we confront or get discovered by the Dominion. B'Elanna will delegate duties to the rest of the crew. Seven, Tuvok, please stay behind for away team briefing." She nodded. "Dismissed."

The Federation ship was near. He sensed it. Sitting on the bridge and monitoring the activities of the fleet through his optical eyepiece, Weyoun thought he could almost smell them. Almost.

The treacherous purple nebula hovered like a gauze over the Jem'Hadar fleet, veiling the treasure that lay within it. Weyoun frowned and steepled his fingers, irked. They had been searching for the ship for an unreasonably long period of time- more than a day, in fact. Surely the Founder was getting displeased with their slowness. He glanced around the bridge at the silent crew of Jem'Hadar manning it. They were efficient and obedient workers, but somehow they lacked that slight … edge the Vorta had in battle. It was why the Founders had chosen them to lead the Jem'Hadar. It was a worthy and honorable task, and Weyoun had a fiercely fanatic devotion to it.

A triple beep brought a small anomaly in the readings to his attention. He looked down at it: traces of ion trails produced by standard Federation sublight engines leading to a point not very far from their current coordinates.

A smile of triumph touched his lips as he bored his gaze into the clouds of salmon and magenta. _Soon,_ he thought, _soon I will have my quarry._

Chakotay increased his stride to catch up with Kathryn down the corridor as she headed back to her quarters after the away team mission had concluded. "Captain," he called out. 

She slowed down and turned to face him, looking troubled. "Chakotay? Is something wrong?"

He stopped in front of her, frowning. "You know what's wrong."

She shut her eyes and quirked her lips. "Oh, Chakotay, please. Not again."

He sighed. "Kathryn, it's a dangerous mission. I don't want you to put your life in jeopardy. What would happen if something happened to you on that Jem'Hadar ship? This ship still needs its captain." _And _I_ still need my captain_, he thought, leaving the words unspoken but implied.

Kathryn folded her arms. "Look, Chakotay, I appreciate your concern, but I can take care of myself. It's not like I'll be going in there alone…"

"The last time you beamed onto a hostile ship you were assimilated by the Borg…"

"Only because it was a Borg Cube I beamed into, and it was our intention all along."

"But still." Chakotay remained worried. "I'd feel more secure if it was me on that ship instead of you." He touched her hand.

Kathryn frowned at Chakotay in determination, then resumed walking. "What kind of captain would I be if I sent my own crewmembers into danger for my own safety?"

Chakotay followed her. "It's not solely for your own safety, Captain. Not even for the safety of the whole ship. There's a lot more at stake in this mission."

"Which is why I need to be there personally." She stopped again and took Chakotay's hand. "Don't worry so much, Chakotay. This will be the last time I'm doing this. I promise."

He sighed, acquiescing. "Fine. But be careful, alright?"

She nodded. "By the way, come with me to my quarters, will you?"

He shrugged. "Of course."

Her quarters were in an unusual state of disarray. She went over to her desk and pushed aside several padds and holographic projectors. "Here, have a look at this." She handed him a padd. "The Vorta who addressed us yesterday, Weyoun… he didn't exactly look like this, did he?"

Chakotay took the padd and studied the picture. "No," he finally decided. "It's not him."

"I thought so. That means it isn't any confusion caused by the concussion…" she placed the padd down on the cluttered table. "The person speaking to us yesterday wasn't Weyoun." She gestured to the padd. "He is… or rather, was. The real Weyoun is dead."

"Dead? I thought the Changelings could clone them. Or did I remember wrongly?"

"The factory was destroyed. Or so I read." She shrugged. "At any rate, whoever addressed us yesterday wasn't all he made himself out to be."

"An impostor?"

"Perhaps."

Chakotay shrugged. "Why would anyone want to pose as this Vorta? He's a virtual unknown in this quadrant. Why not be someone else?"

"I don't know. But it does put a whole new spin on the situation, doesn't it?"

"The whole fleet could be an impostor…" he thought. "Which means it might not be polaron beams which hit our ships… and that our plan may not work."

"Oh, we're pretty sure they were polaron beams, alright," said Kathryn, folding her arms. "What worries me is that we're facing a total unknown here."

"Aren't we always?" he asked, smiling slightly.

Kathryn clasped his arm, nodding. "Yes… the path before us is never certain…" A strange light came into her eyes. "But we'll be alright, Chakotay. One way or another, this ship is going to pull through this ordeal."

"You're sure?"

"Yes," she said, the light shining in her eyes.

He smiled and patted her arm, suddenly feeling like his whole life was full and complete just standing near her. She looked so beautiful, so perfect in this moment. He could envision spending the rest of his life by her side, content and never apart. Just the thought of it seemed to banish all his worries of the Jem'Hadar. Somehow, somehow they'd get through this like they always did, and when it was all over she would be his. After six and a half years of longing and restraint, she'd finally come to him. He smiled. " That's very good."

This time, Weyoun went into the Changeling's presence with good news. The Federation starship had been spotted. Finally they would secure success.

The Changeling was scrutinizing a tactical display when Weyoun entered the room. "The Federation starship has been sighted," he said, bowing before the Changeling. He placed his own padd down reverently before the Founder.

The Changeling gave it a cursory glance and nodded. He then gestured to the screen in front of him. " What do you make of this?" 

Weyoun glanced at the plans appraisingly and frowned. "It is an energy-release diagram." 

The shapeshifter grunted in approval. "Correctly deduced," he replied. " Now, what does the diagram show?" 

" A catastrophic energy release which tears the fabric of space-time." 

" Also correct." The Founder smiled cruelly. " Now, see these calculations… " he pointed to rows of numbers below the plan. " What do _they_ tell you?" 

Weyoun studied the plan, then tried not to suck in an amazed breath. " A wormhole… ripping its way across the galaxy… through Bajor. It'll destroy the whole planet!" His eyes glinted. " And the Federation ship's destruction will catalyze the formation of this wormhole!" 

The Changeling nodded to Weyoun. " Excellent." 

It would be a double blow to the Federation, Weyoun realized. Losing one of their ships and valuable tactical information about the Delta Quadrant, as well as the phenomenal loss of an entire planet. It was a brilliant plan, he thought.

" A brilliant plan, don't you think?" the Changeling asked him. " That's all we're going to need for our plan to succeed." 

Weyoun was momentarily confused. What happened to his meticulous plans to capture the starship? And what of all the tactical information that they needed to survive in this place?

"The plans have changed. All we need is this… then we will be able to roam the galaxy freely and rightfully as we once did." He smiled and lifted his hands up. " Liberation will at last be ours." 

Weyoun looked up at the Founder and realized for the first time that his eyes were _glowing_.

"There are only three places possible for our away team to beam in," B'Elanna told Seven, the so-called "bomb team's delegate" on the away team. "Personally, I'd take this exhaust port on deck seventeen, where it's closest to the polaron beam generator, but it's too heavily shielded for us to penetrate." She moved her finger up on the schematic and pointed. "So instead we'll use this one, two decks up. It's a longer walk to most of the coordinate points, so we'll have to move faster." She sighed. "I sincerely hope nothing goes wrong." 

The two of them were in Engineering, running through the procedure for the away team, slowly and meticulously going over every detail. B'Elanna was more than worried. It wasn't just the fate of the ship or even the whole quadrant that worried her the most. She was most concerned over the safety of the away team: Tuvok and the captain and Seven. She didn't know what her life would be like without them- even Seven, she thought. Seven wasn't exactly the closest friend she had, but she didn't hate her anymore either.

Seven glanced curiously at her as she paused. "You are worried," she said. It was not a question.

B'Elanna blew air between her lips with a sigh. "Who isn't?" 

Seven frowned oddly. "The captain, for one thing," she said, and from her tone of voice B'Elanna knew that she'd been thinking about this for a long time yet was unable to come up with an explanation for it. 

B'Elanna shrugged. "So maybe she's confident of pulling through this crisis in one piece. Or she's trying to put on a brave face for her crew." She let out a soft chuckle. "Or maybe it's because of Chakotay." It was no secret than most of the crew was delighted by the latest turn of events between the first officer and his captain. The senior crew, for one, was fully supportive of her decision. They seemed so much more relaxed and untroubled when comfortable which each other's presence. For that they worked better together, and B'Elanna was glad that both of them had, at least, found happiness with each other.

Seven paused in thought. "What does it feel like to be in love, Lieutenant?" 

The question caught her totally off-guard. " Pardon?" 

" What does it feel like to be in love?" 

B'Elanna paused. " I don't know, actually… it's just a feeling you get. You feel more happy…, more relaxed. Content with life, at least." She shrugged. " It's a good feeling… but one which is rather hard to put your finger on." She thought of Tom and smiled a little. " Sometimes it takes a little while to get used to it, especially if you haven't … been loved much in your life." Her smile grew slightly twisted, bitter. She gave Seven a funny glance. " I guess I'm not making very much sense, am I?" 

"On the contrary." The ex-Borg continued to study the schematic as she spoke. "It makes perfect sense. Human emotions are very … complex, and they are hard to quantify." 

"'Hard to quantify'… Well, that's one way of looking at love, I suppose." She put her hands on her hips. As a newlywed couple, she and Tom had experienced their share of difficulties and differences, but everything was still working out for the moment. They had their goals, their plans. They both wanted kids; they both wanted to get back to Earth, and most of all they both wanted each other. B'Elanna wouldn't trade anything in the universe for what she had now.

Seven's commbadge beeped, and she tapped it. "Seven of Nine." 

"Seven." It was the captain's voice. "The Dominion ships are on intercept course. Report to Transporter Room Three. " 

Seven nodded tersely. "Acknowledged. Seven of Nine out." 

B'Elanna took a shaky breath and tried not to show it. "Well, it looks like it's time to see if our theories work." Under her breath she muttered, " They sure as hell had better…" 

Neelix sauntered into Sickbay, trying not to look too impatient. The Doctor was there, trying to cram Tuvok on emergency medical techniques at the last minute. The Vulcan, to his merit, was trying to maintain a modicum of interest as the Doctor once again demonstrated the use of his adapted dermal regenerator. "So you hold it over the injury, like this, and you press this button here-"

Finally even Tuvok's famed Vulcan patience was up. "Thank you, Doctor," he said with a slight touch of sarcasm, "but I believe we were taught how to operate a dermal regenerator in our first year at Starfleet Academy." 

"Well," huffed the Doctor in his routine I'm-being-under-appreciated-again manner, "I believed that Starfleet Academy was quite a long time ago for you, so I thought I might run a refresher course." Insulted by the Vulcan's insouciant manner, he turned his back to him and added, " But if you think that you do not require the benefit of my coaching, that's fine by me. If anyone gets hurt or dies during the away team mission, it's not going to be _my_ fault." At this he shot Tuvok a venomous glance before stomping away into his office.

Tuvok merely raised an eyebrow.

As he left Sickbay, Neelix walked over to the doorway of the Doctor's office and cleared his throat slightly. " Doctor?" 

The Doctor, still grumpy, didn't glance up as he said " Yes?" 

Neelix folded his hands together on his belly with what he hoped was a cheerful smile. " The ointment I asked for yesterday…" 

The Doctor looked up at him, visibly brightening. "Did you want me to do something for you?" 

"Ah… no. I asked for a vial of ointment yesterday." 

The Doctor nodded. "Ah." Then he frowned. " What ointment?" 

" For my skin rash? I told you that I was slightly allergic to the juices of that blue fruit we picked from that last planet." 

The Doctor seemed perturbed. "I don't remember that." 

"I asked you just as you were throwing me out of Sickbay, so maybe you don't remember anything about it." 

Now the Doctor was definitely giving him an odd look. " I threw you out of Sickbay? Since when?" 

"You threw everybody out of Sickbay yesterday," Neelix reminded him. He gestured to the deserted Sickbay. "Why else do you think it is so empty?"

"I did? Now, why would I do that?" 

Neelix shrugged. " You wanted to give Captain Janeway some rest, so you declared Sickbay off-limits to all personnel except those who needed severe medical attention, of which there were none on board the ship. So basically you just sent everyone packing back to their quarters." 

The Doctor stared at him some more, then finally blinked. " I need to run a check on all my subroutines. I seem to be forgetting quite a number of things." 

"And my ointment…?" 

"Is coming right up once I figure out what's the problem with my program." 

Neelix nodded and left the Doctor's office, shaking his head and muttering about absent-minded holograms. As he stepped out of Sickbay, he heard the first sounds of the Red Alert klaxon starting.


	4. The Conflict Begins

****

What Legacies You Leave Behind (Part 4)

- A_ Voyager_ bedtime story

by Lt 17 of 26 aka fROzen TaTTooGaL™ (MERSTS)

__

Chakotay held Kathryn's hand almost protectively as they gathered around in the transporter room. The TCBs were laid neatly on three small antigrav carts. Kathryn and Tuvok were dressed in the functional uniform- bottom layer of the tops and pants only. Seven was still in her full unitard, but at least it wasn't as restrictive as a full Starfleet uniform. Each of them was armed with one of those new compression phaser rifles, assembled from the specs sent from the Alpha Quadrant. And a utility belt strapped firmly to their waists.

Kathryn patted his arm. "The Dominion ship intercepts in five minutes. You'd better get on the bridge." 

He nodded, feeling suddenly tense. _It's our big day_, he thought, _where we get to save the whole universe._ He raised his hand and she grasped it tightly, intertwining their fingers. "Be careful," he said with heartfelt sincerity.

She smiled at him, her eyes sparkling with unfathomable emotions. "Take care, Chakotay." 

He unwillingly released her hand and walked away, towards the door. He looked back over his shoulder as the three of them got ready on the transporter platform. Before the doors slid close, he caught Kathryn's eye, and their breathtaking blueness shone with unshed tears. Then the doors slid into place, cutting off his view of her. With a sigh he headed for the bridge. _Stop worrying so much_, he chided himself. _We're all going to be fine._

Harry Kim was on the bridge, feeling understandably nervous. He tried to suppress it; tried to stop his hands from shaking. He thought of all the bigger adversities he'd overcome over the years, and the thought of those experiences did wonders to calm him. He tweaked the new shielding system and modified structural integrity field to help focus his thoughts. The new temporary changes were draining a lot of power from their already stressed sources, meaning that they had to shut down many of the ship's non-essential functions such as the holodecks. They even cut power to personnel quarters, shutting off things like the sonic showers and the replicators -things which one hardly expected to use during a major battle. 

The turbolift slid open and Chakotay stepped onto the bridge. "ETA of the Dominion fleet?" he asked. 

"Two and a half minutes," replied Harry. His voice sounded confident, strong. Good.

At the helm, Tom nodded in approval at the silent steel beneath his friend's voice._ What a long way we've come since the Alpha Quadrant,_ he thought. His hands danced over the surface of the helm controls, skilled and sure. _From wanted criminal to savior of the galaxy_. Rather than being tense and nervous, Tom felt excited, the adrenaline surging through his body. Today his piloting would be perfect, as it always was. _Voyager_ would fly like the wind.

They surged forwards to their final destiny.

Weyoun smiled as the Federation ship drew closer. Now he had it in his grasp.

Behind him, he sensed that the Founder had come onto the bridge to observe the battle first hand. The bridge seemed laden with sudden silence as the Jem'Hadar and Vorta alike acknowledged his presence.

Soon…

__

Voyager burst out from behind the diaphanous clouds of plasma like an avenging angel, springing out on the Jem'Hadar ship without any warning. Enhanced with a new shielding system and SIF, as well as dozens of patchy repairs and modifications within the past 48 hours, the ship was as ready as she would ever be for battle. A actinic blue beam shot out from the aft section of the disabled deflector dish, drilling a hole in a weak point in the Jem'Hadar shields. Then the smaller ship darted away in the opposite direction, only to find itself surrounded in the middle of a hostile circle. There was no escaping this time- it was do or die.

Seven knew that the Jem'Hadar ships had arrived when she first felt the tingling which accompanied dematerialization. Immediately the air seemed to grow warmer and more oppressive. She glanced around the deserted corridor coalescing around her, taking in all the sights and sounds. So this is what a Jem'Hadar ship is like, she thought, scrutinizing the sharp, bold lines and crude symmetry, cross referencing it to her Borg knowledge.

Beside her, Kathryn picked up one of the antigravs and started heading down towards the polaron beam generator. Her pulse quickened as she remembered their original mission. " Come on," she said. " We have a lot of work to do." 

On the bridge, Chakotay hailed the lead Dominion ship. The not-Weyoun was, as usual, occupying the center stage, but now there was someone new behind him. A man, tall but with unformed features, his face looking oddly smooth, as if constructed by an inexperienced child playing with clay. Then he noticed the rest of the bridge crew- Vorta and Jem'Hadar alike- looking at this new figure with an awe of reverence, and all the pieces fell into place. This man was a Founder- one of those which had spearheaded the Dominion.

He greeted Chakotay cursorily. "Commander Chakotay of the Starship _Voyager_, I believe." His voice had a gravelly, nasal quality that Chakotay did not quite like. He nodded in acknowledgement.

The Founder folded his arms together and smiled unpleasantly at Chakotay. "You have a fine vessel." 

Chakotay heard the thinly veiled threat beneath the man's words. "We know what you came for," he said. "We can offer you everything you wanted- tactical information, star maps- you name it. Just leave our ship alone. We are of no interest to you in this quadrant- we never took part in the Federation offensive against the Dominion and we never will." 

The Founder glanced sarcastically at Chakotay. "Now, Commander, that's not very altruistic, is it?" 

In his chair, Chakotay tensed, realizing he was treading a thin line between distracting the Founder and aggravating him. "We don't live here. We couldn't care less what happens to this sector of space, so long as we get home." 

The Founder sneered at Chakotay. "What makes you think you'll give us what we want?" 

"As I said, we're willing to download every last iota of information about the Delta Quadrant that we have, just as long as you leave us alone." 

"Information about the Delta Quadrant? Now, why would we need that?" asked the Founder in a mocking tone. 

__

I'm not stupid, Chakotay thought, balling his hand up into a fist silently. "We know what you want, Founder. You need this information for your offensive against the Delta Quadrant." 

"Offensive against the Delta Quadrant? It's such a boring place. The only reason we came here was because of you." 

__

Because of us? Chakotay blinked. "We have no quarrel with you. What would you want with us?" 

"Perhaps I should have been more specific. When I meant 'you' I was referring to your ship, of course…" The shapeshifter favored Chakotay a nasty grin. "Are you aware that your ship is the only one left in existence with this particular warp-core configuration? Only a few of these ships were commissioned with this core because shortly after its inauguration, it was found to have serious flaws." 

"Flaws," said Chakotay suspiciously.

"The rest of the ships were either lost in battle, or refitted with a new core. Except this one, of course, because it's been… out of commission for so long. But we're about to set that record straight, because soon this ship will be lost in battle as well." 

Chakotay glared at the screen. "I don't see what our destruction has to do with anything of your grand plans." 

"Oh, but of course. Starfleet must have forgotten to inform you with this key information. How careless of them." 

"What information?" Chakotay seethed, wondering how long the Dominion had been tinkering with their transmissions from the Alpha Quadrant._ What else have they been keeping from us?_

"Didn't you know? When your warp core is destroyed, the release of energy is concentrated enough to cause huge tears in the fabric of space-time, which become fairly easy to manipulate." 

__

Fooled, Chakotay suddenly realized, _we've been fooled._ Behind him, Harry sucked in a sharp breath. "They want to use this energy release to punch a wormhole to the Alpha Quadrant- which they will control!" His brow furrowed. "But how? Since when did the Dominion obtain such sophisticated wormhole technology?" 

"How and where doesn't matter, and neither do the efforts of your little friends trying to plant explosives on my ship." He gestured to non-Weyoun. "He can find all you synthetic biogel contraptions faster than you put them down." The Vorta swelled with pride as the Founder moved more clearly to the front and gazed derisively at Chakotay. "Your ship will be destroyed no matter what." Then he cut communications.

The Jem'Hadar ships began to fire.

Kathryn had planted the last real charge underneath a storage cabinet located some five feet away from the polaron generator rooms, bathed in an odd blue glow. The small spherical device had blinked and flashed as she had activated the timer button, being careful not to touch the deadman's switch rigged to it which would set off instant detonation. She'd checked her chrono- they were two mintues ahead of schedule. Excellent.

" Captain." Seven had called, her voice echoing from down the corridor. "Take a look at this." 

Kathryn hurried down the corridor, worry etched on her face, probably hoping it wasn't more bad news.

It was. Seven stood in front of a recessed pit, blanketed in a thin layer of vaporizing liquid nitrogen. "What's that?" Kathryn asked, peering carefully into the pit. One could barely make the outlines of the machinery housed within it. The metal railing was freezing to the touch, and she moved her hands away from it. 

"From what I can surmise, it is an energy collector of some sort," replied Seven. She pointed out the components of the collector to Kathryn. "I believe that the source of energy it collects is from the exterior of the ship; those black conduits over there induct the energy from its origin, accumulate it and intensify it here." 

"But what does it do? Collect solar power?" Kathryn walked cautiously around the pit, examining it. "It don't see any output device." 

Seven continued scanning the pit, her lips tightening. "I'm afraid its not anything as harmless as that. This equipment has been calibrated to receive an energy signal corresponding to that of a warp-core breach release- one of an _Intrepid_-class starship." 

Kathryn gave her a swift glance. "The destruction of our ship. What would they do with all this energy?" 

Seven frowned, unsure of the answer. "I have made some hypotheses," she told Kathryn. "The energy released by our warp core breach might be sufficient to rupture the fabric of space-time and create a permanent wormhole between the Delta Quadrant and whatever point you wish in the universe." 

"One wonders why we've never thought of _that_ one before," said Kathryn dryly. The she paused, thinking. "Wait, did you say _any_ point in the universe?" 

"That is correct." 

"Including Earth…."she whispered. Her eyes widened. "Planetary defenses will be no match for fifteen Jem'Hadar ships appearing out of nowhere."

"Or Bajor," Seven noted. "The coordinates lead to Bajor." Her voice quieted. "No. In fact, the coordinates lead _through_ Bajor." She snapped her tricorder shut. "It'll destroy the whole planet," she said softly, letting the implications carve a cold pit in her stomach.

"Seven, is there any way for us to ensure that this machinery does not come into operation?" 

"Destroy it before our ship does," replied Seven curtly. "That is the only affirmative way." 

"So it has come to this." She placed her hand over abdomen, as if about to be violently sick. Footsteps above their head made her suddenly look up. "Jem'Hadar troops!" she exclaimed in alarm. Her cerulean blue eyes met Seven's. "Let's go." And they ran back down the corridor, back up to the prearranged coordinates.

The _Voyager_ shook with the fury of the Jem'Hadar ship's attack. Seated at the helm, Tom could hardly keep on his seat, much less fly the ship. But he tried valiantly, moving the ship away from the thickest of the fire. _Voyager_ was doing much better with Seven and Harry's adapted shielding and the deflector dish off-line, but the polaron beams were perilously close to overloading circuitry ship-wide. Already the bridge had suffered a few surges, and the newly repaired consoles had been damaged again. Harry had a burn on his arm; Chakotay a few minor abrasions.

Chakotay was tense, as far as Tom could tell. The bear-like First Officer sat in the captain's chair, lip tightened into a thin line, clenching and unclenching a fist silently. "Harry," he said, "How long do we have until detonation?" 

"Eight minutes," he said.

"Status of the away team?" 

"They are headed towards the prearranged beamup coordinates," reported Ayala, taking Tuvok's place at Tactical.

The ship lurched violently as it took a hard hit. Tom winced as navigational reports flooded in bloodred on his console. "We've lost the aft ventral impulse engines!" Now _Voyager_ was lame, unable to maneuver as skillfully as she had done before.

"Commander." It was B'Elanna, from Engineering. "Our sublight engines are experiencing an unhealthy amount of EM radiation flux from the new shielding. I might have to employ some kind of damping field on it, but it'll hamper operational efficiency." 

Chakotay nodded. "Do it, B'Elanna."

"The away team is in position," reported Ayala.

"Standby to beam them out." 

The three away team members gathered at the prearranged coordinates for beamup. In his hand Tuvok held a miniature tricobalt device: small, but powerful nonetheless. They were in a large, mostly empty storage room on the outer rim of the ship, a huge space with two decks. Tuvok planted the tricobalt device in one of the lower corners of the room. It had a one-minute timing delay. Taking their cue from Tuvok, the trio ran out of the room to wait for the explosion.

Unfortunately a platoon of Jem'Hadar troops awaited them outside the room.

Without hesitation the three bolted to the left, trying to reach the access ladder that would bring them back to the second level of the storage room. The Jem'Hadar followed them, firing bolts of scarlet energy at key superstructure points of the ship, trying to impede the way of the interlopers.

A huge support beam from the ceiling groaned, sagged, and crashed to the floor behind Seven just as she reached the access ladder. In front of her Tuvok returned with his compression phaser rifle, taking out two of the Jem'Hadar.

Kathryn was trapped under the massive beam. "Captain!" Seven ran over to lift the beam- and found its weight comparable to a class-2 shuttle's. "I can't move it!" she exclaimed. Tuvok came over to help her.

Kathryn's eyes widened as a close shot from the approaching Jem'Hadar sizzled over their heads. "Go," she told them, "leave me. I'll be fine." 

Seven shook her head. "I'm not abandoning you!"

"There's no other way! You'll miss the beamout frame!" She glanced back at the Jem'Hadar, leaping easily over the obstacles they had made. "Seven, Tuvok, return to the _Voyager_. That's an order." 

Tuvok's face was unreadable, but Seven's contorted with grief. "No!" she refused stubbornly. "Captain, I will not leave you here!" 

"Just go, please! Go!" shouted Kathryn as the first Jem'Hadar started to clamber over the massive support beam.

With one last anguished glance over her shoulder, Seven fled up the access ladder and just barely into the room as the tricobalt device detonated.

__

The child rubbed her eyes; despite herself, she was tired. The angel picked up on this and paused at the climax of the story. The child glanced at her with eyes wide open. "You can't just stop here! I want to know what happens next!"

"I will finish the story tomorrow. Do not worry." 

"But that means I'll have to wait till tomorrow to find out the ending!" 

"You are a contrary child. First you say you do not want me to complete the story today, then you complain when I do not finish it." 

"But you stopped at the most exciting part!" 

"It is a literary technique known as a 'cliffhanger'," the angel told the girl, tucking her in. "Writers use it often."

"I like reading. Maybe I'll be a writer when I grow up." The six-year old favored the angel a cherubic smile. "Promise to come back tomorrow?" 

"I promise." 


	5. Coping WIth Loss

****

What Legacies You Leave Behind (Part 5)

- A_ Voyager_ bedtime story

by Lt 17 of 26 aka fROzen TaTTooGaL™ (MERSTS)

__

The girl was curled up in bed, pretending to be asleep, when the angel arrived for the final time, dressed in a shimmering suit of dark ocher. "I will finish the tale today, no matter how late it gets," the angel promised her. "I am running out of time." 

"Do all angels have a time schedule to run on?" the child asked curiously.

"This one does," the angel replied.

Weyoun smiled in satisfaction as the third deactivated transnucleic compression bomb was presented before him. "They have found no other bombs, Founder," he told the shapeshifter. He wasn't listening. The Founder was focused on the crippled Federation starship on the viewscreen, a maniacal light reflecting from his eyes. "Finally… we will reclaim our rightful places in the galaxy…" 

A Jem'Hadar sublieutenant came up to him. "We have captured one of the Starfleet officers," he said in his deep baritone. He gestured to the back of the bridge.

Weyoun's line of sight followed the Jem'Hadar's hand, and his smile widened. "Ah, excellent…" 

"Commencing beamup now!" exclaimed Harry as soon as the ship's sensors detected the tricobalt explosion. His fingers moved swiftly over the consoles. "I've got them!" Then the color drained from his face. There were only _two_ signals he locked on to…

"Excellent. Mr. Paris, get us out of-" 

"Wait." Harry's voice was trembling. "The captain didn't beam on board." 

Chakotay whirled to face Harry. "_What_?" 

Harry blanched. "I'm sorry, sir! I couldn't lock on to her signal and-" 

The turbolift doors opened and out burst Seven, having obviously sprinted her way onto the bridge. "We must retrieve the captain, _now_." 

"Seven, what happened?" demanded Chakotay, rising on his feet even as the deck shook and trembled.

"The Jem'Hadar took her," said Seven bluntly.

"The Jem'Hadar are hailing us," reported Harry tersely.

The Doctor was on his feet in Sickbay, able to keep his balance despite the shaking of the ship. Lights were dimmed, although most of the medical equipment was on emergency standby as dictated by Red Alert protocol. He was, at the moment, running a diagnostic over his subroutines, and had found an anomaly that explained his memory loss: yesterday someone had encrypted and isolated a whole unit from his memory buffers. At present he was trying hard to crack the encryption code, although the ship going through her paces in battle made it fairly difficult.

Eventually his hard work paid off. As he de-encrypted the memory files his subroutines quailed in horror. _This is a terrible mistake!_ He hit his commbadge. "Doctor to the bridge. This is a medical emergency. Beam Captain Janeway onto the ship, _now_." 

Kathryn stood on the bridge of the lead Jem'Hadar ship, taking in the sights and sounds of an agitated, galvanized battle. As she stepped in the not-Weyoun favored her with a dark, flinty smile. She glared defiantly at him.

The angular viewscreen displayed the bridge of the _Voyager_, where everything, if possible, was even tenser. The Founder was addressing Chakotay. "Maybe you'd better take a look at this." He gestured smugly to Kathryn standing behind him. "We have your captain hostage, found all your little transnucleic bombs, and fifteen polaron devices trained on your warp core. Why bother wasting your phaser banks firing at us? This isn't one battle you're going to win." 

Kathryn glanced at the disassembled bombs on the table and smiled a tight, bitter smile of victory.

There were only _three_ bombs on the table.

"Really, Captain," Weyoun addressed Kathryn disapprovingly, "did you really think we couldn't scan past your biosynthetic membranes around the transnucleic free radicals? We know that all your other sixteen bombs are fakes. We didn't even bother to retrieve them."

And underneath the storage cabinet, the fourth red-marked bomb lay unnoticed and unfound, it's display blinking down from 03:50.

In the pulsing crimson glow of Red Alert Chakotay shifted in his seat, unwilling to stand unbraced with the ship periodically shaking so violently. Behind him Seven and Harry labored with the transporter controls, trying to find a way to bypass the Jem'Hadar shields. Before him Tom sweated with the helm, and Tuvok was firing weapons with an intense frenzy.

Kathryn gazed at the ship with firm intensity. "Chakotay, get the ship out of here now. I don't want you to be caught in the explosions." 

__

Like hell I will. He had to find some way to distract them, somehow. "Precisely why do you want to open this wormhole to the Alpha Quadrant? There is already one in existence- the Bajoran wormhole." He tried to keep his expression open and sincere. "Maybe we can help you." 

The Founder laughed. "Why, really. A small person such as you, help me?" He snickered. "Already he is not half the glorious man he used to be," he scoffed, gesturing to the not-Weyoun. "What makes you think you can restore us to our rightful place?" He raised his arms in the air. "For years we have been banished, denied of our rightful place. But now it will be over. We will be liberated. We will reclaim our former kingdom and glory. Our Temple will finally be ours yet again." 

Chakotay merely stared at him like the megalomaniac he was. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded.

And the bomb's display ticked down to 02:00.

The Founder or not-Founder laughed and shook his head imperiously. "Have you not realized?" 

Kathryn had. "You're not a Founder. He's not Weyoun. This ship and its Jem'Hadar crew were stolen. He's just an inferior clone with implanted memories. And you're a Pah-Wraith. "

"Excellent. You know then." 

"You're one of those who miraculously managed to escape. That's why you want to destroy Bajor. Send a wormhole through it, so that the rest of your people can take control it. Wage war on the Bajoran wormhole entities." Her eyes grew hard, flinty. "But I won't let you."

The pah-Founder's eyes narrowed. "And how do you intend to stop us?"

"You've only found three bombs. There is a fourth, and you'll never find it in time. It's too heavily shielded." 

"Oh? And why does it seem that one ship managed to do in two days what the whole of the Federation couldn't do in ten years and build a perfect biosignature imitator?" asked the pah-Founder sarcastically.

Kathryn just smiled.

A Pah-wraith? At Tactical Tuvok frowned. He'd heard of these entities before, evil incarnations of the Prophets in the Bajoran wormhole. It made a lot of sense to him

But the captain's last few words didn't. He dissected and examined them from every angle, hypothesizing and eliminating possibilities with an irrational touch of worry. He had the feeling he knew what was going to happen.

Then the Doctor hailed them from Sickbay. "Doctor to the bridge. This is a medical emergency. Beam Captain Janeway onto the ship, _now_. There's been a terrible accident!" 

The last piece fell into place as Tuvok mentally recoiled from the idea in shock.

Yet it was too late to do anything.

Who knew what went through her head in those last few moments? Regret? Joy? Pride? None of it would ever be known. All they saw was her, standing proud and dignified on the bridge, surrounded by Vorta and Jem'Hadar and the Pah-wraith. A small smile on her lips as the pah-Founder asked his last question, her face a profound mixture of warring emotions.

Maybe she was sorry she didn't manage to bring them the other half of the way home.

Or happy that she'd brought them the first half.

She might have been sorry she wouldn't live to see the crew grow in strength and have families.

Or maybe she might have been happy that she'd helped them bond as one family.

So many questions, so many doubts and regrets and mysteries. And not enough answers. Nobody would ever know what went on in her mind before she laid herself down, once again, for her ship; her crew; her home.

All she ever cared about.

Beneath the cabinet the bomb's timer ticked down to 00:00.

And nothing happened.

That was because the fourth red-marked bomb was a dud.

"Oh? And why does it seem that one ship managed to do in two days what the whole of the Federation couldn't do in ten years and build a perfect biosignature imitator?" asked the pah-Founder sarcastically.

She smiled at the Founder. "That's because we didn't have to." She lifted her arms slightly to angle her body towards him. "It's in here." 

And in one swift motion she hit the remote activation deadman's switch on her utility belt.

__

Detonation.

A white light washed over the ships as the bridge of the lead Jem'Hadar ship expanded in an actinic fireball. The blue wavefront rushing from the explosion engulfed the sixteen ships instantly.

Less than fifteen seconds later the first warp core breach ruptured one massive angular ship into a crimson blossom of fire. Followed by another, and another, and another. 

Wave after wave of unimaginable energy pummeled the small Intrepid-class vessel in the center of it all. On the _Voyager_'s bridge conduits ruptured, circuits blew and the deck heaved in seismic proportions as the ship absorbed the full impact of the massive destruction before them. But Chakotay, braced wildly on his chair, could only form one blinding word in his mind, obliterating all other thoughts. 

**__**

"Kathryn!"

It was all over in an instant. The fifteen Dominion ships were all obliterated in the space of a few seconds. Hundreds, maybe thousands of lives were lost. The Pah-wraith, frustrated from it's plans, fled back to the dimension it had sought refuge in, simmering and hatching ingenious new plans to free his fellows.

On the bridge of the _Voyager_ all was silent as the painful white light faded. The smoke and dust hung in the air, an ominous pale shroud amongst the stillness. Seven stared at the fading debris and emptiness on the viewscreen in complete shock. She tried to gather her thoughts. But one refrain kept repeating itself over and over in her head: _I let her die._

At Tactical Tuvok appeared outwardly calm and composed, but inside he churned with a strange mix of emotions. She was gone: his commanding officer, confidante, and long-standing friend. Barely middle-aged slightly past a hundred, he still found the brevity of human life slightly disconcerting. And she hadn't even lived to half that long. As much as he wanted to quiet and order his thoughts with calm and logic, he felt that it wouldn't be improper to reason out the untimely death of a friend so close. She'd never do it that way. 

She'd never do it that way.

That point was the final blow which drove the sobriety of the situation home. She wouldn't be here any longer, with her illogical human behaviors and emotions that he'd gotten so used to over the years. Her smiles, odd little quirks and personality traits- none of it remained. He'd lost an irreplacable friend.

He was going to miss her.

Seven of Nine was in cargo bay, trying to focus on the repair job at hand. But her mind kept straying to the events of the past few days. It had only been three days but it had seemed like an eternity. 

She put down her hygrospanner and sighed, settling on the floor, knees drawn to chin like a small child. Inevitably her gaze strayed to the padd and the holographic projector stacked on the floor of her damaged alcove. She picked the padd up and left the projector alone, unwilling to go down that painful path again. Instead she studied the new detailed scans of the Dominion ship, and the metaphasic shielding that Tuvok had pointed out to her on the exhaust port over the polaron beam generator. Her lips tightened as she glanced down at holoproj, drawing comfort from the last heartfelt words her captain had left for her. A legacy to keep.

__

Humans are irrational, illogical, and follow the paths of their own desires, thoughtSeven_, and she told me how much she'd loved watching my growth as a human. _What if there had been a better way to handle the Jem'Hadar? Seven rose and headed for the console terminal in Cargo Bay, determined to work this as much as she could.

Captain Chakotay sat on the floor of his quarters, feeling exhausted. He was surrounded by his captain's personal effects, sorting through them, relishing the memories, and feeling lonelier each passing minute. The past three days had been a frenzied mix of grieving, reshuffling and ultimately reparation on the ship. Life still went on even after a disaster. Life always went on.

He sighed and picked up his holoprojector again. He thumbed the On switch and gazed fondly at her image, so small and perfectly preserved. She was speaking, dressed in that same gray silk nightgown, eyes sparkling with deeply felt tears. She spoke of so many things: about their time together, the ship and crew, and most of all how sorry she was about the way things had gone between them. "I could have handled it better," she whispered. "Please forgive me." 

"I never blamed you," he told the projection, "but… I guess you'll never know." 

She gazed at him poignantly. "You told me once that one of the things you liked best about me was my smile. So… I guess that's the way I want you to remember me- smiling. Take care of yourself and the ship, please, Chakotay. I have absolute faith that you will." And she smiled up at him, sincere and brilliant. 

Chakotay hit the Pause on the recording and stared at her frozen portrait for a long time. The way the light reflected in her eyes… the way her lips curved, lighting up her whole face like a beacon of hope… He felt the tears beginning to sting in his eyes and jammed the balls of his hands into them to stop it. "Oh, dammit, Kathryn…" He swore he wouldn't succumb to pointless grieving and maudlin sentimentality. He would be strong, just as she was.

The door chimed, and he turned the projector off. "Come." 

The doors slid open and admitted Seven of Nine. She stood awkwardly at the door for a moment. " Captain. You are busy." 

"No, not at all." Chakotay arranged the clutter on the floor into neater piles as Seven stepped in. "Are the repairs complete?" 

"Not yet." Seven hesitated for a moment, then handed him a padd.

Chakotay took it, frowning. "What's this?" 

"Post -mission reports." 

Chakotay scanned down the padd and his lips tightened. "So there was another way to subjugate the Dominion…" 

"Yes, by detonating a tricobalt device above the metaphasic shielding on the exhaust port over the lead ship's polaron device. It would eliminate the need for an away team beaming over to the Jem'Hadar ship. Furthermore the subsequent rupture in subspace would have engulfed the lead ship, trapping the Pah-Wraith indefinitely." 

"So there was an alternative. Why didn't we think of it?" 

"We didn't have enough information." She replied bitterly.

Chakotay read further on. Then he glanced sharply up at Seven. "Seven, as much as I appreciate your effort, we have already agreed that we are going to pick up the pieces and move on as well as we can. Coming up with plans like these-" he waved the padd around- "will only delay the healing process." 

Seven nodded. "My apologies, Captain." She made as if to leave, and extended a hand towards him. "My proposal?" 

Chakotay was about to return the padd when he abruptly changed his mind. "On second thoughts, maybe I'll read this," he told her. 

She nodded. "May I inform the rest of the senior crew?" 

He shrugged in reply. "By all means, go ahead." 

B'Elanna was seated uneasily on the edge of the bed, waiting for Tom. She felt so lost and angry, like a little child. The past few days had been so hectic, one bombshell after another. First the captain had sacrificed herself, then the Doctor has announced that she was pregnant. She clutched tightly at her abdomen, feeling more shaky than usual. She hadn't even been brave enough to run the holographic recording Kathryn had left for them, and she'd just been waiting for this opportunity when Tom and herself had some free time together. 

Tom stepped into their quarters, looking tired from a long day spent between the helm and Sickbay. He settled down on the bed beside B'Elanna and draped one hand over her shoulder. B'Elanna smiled and leant against him, feeling more secure than she did when she was alone. She held the holoproj in front of them, angling a questioning look at Tom. "Do we start?" 

Tom nodded. "Whenever you're ready." The captain had left a separate recording for each of the bridge officers except the two of them, in recognition of their marital status. People had stopped seeing them separately as B'Elanna and as Tom, but rather in one unit as B'Elanna and Tom.

B'Elanna took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "I think the first part is for you."

It was. "Tom," the captain began, dressed in a silk gray nightgown, " by the time you are receiving this, I will already be dead." She shut her eyes briefly. "There are some things which I never told you about when I was alive, so it is just as well that you find out now. I know that things between us have never been easy, partly because I once served with your father, and partly because you've never worked well with rules and regulations. Truth to tell, I wasn't very sure of myself when I approached you years ago in New Zealand. Part of me wondered if I was making a big mistake. But when I first saw you pilot the ship and working with such fervor, I knew that I hadn't been wrong in asking you to help me." She sighed in that motherly way that she had. "Oh, we've had difficulties every now and then, and a fair share of discontent, but…" She smiled slightly. "Things change so much over the years. You're a fine officer, Tom." Her voice softened to a gentle whisper. "Your father would be so proud of you." 

Tom sucked in an anguished breath. "How are we ever going to tell him?" 

B'Elanna gripped his arm tightly, seeking his comfort. 

The door chose that inopportune moment to ring. Tom angled a glance at B'Elanna. She nodded wordlessly, focusing on the hologram. 

The doors slid open and admitted Seven of Nine. 

Tom glanced quizzically at B'Elanna, but she was too absorbed in the captain's last words to protest Seven's presence. Seven began heading back out of the door, but Tom motioned for her to stay. She paused by the door, uncertain.

"B'Elanna." Kathryn smiled tiredly, and her eyes sparkled with tears. "I don't know where to begin. When I first met you I always thought that you would be more trouble than you were worth. I was so wrong." She gazed up at the air, then back again. "In many ways you've surpassed my expectations of you. You're hardworking, a brilliant engineer, more than anybody could ask for. And… you've been a good friend. Do you remember those times, late at night, in the Mess Hall? Just the two of us, an a jug of coffee…" Her voice grew husky as she remembered. "Those were the times…" 

B'Elanna could feel the tears coming, and buried her face in Tom's shoulder. She cursed softly. _I swore I'd never let Seven see me cry. _Tom patted her shoulder, at a loss for words, as the captain continued.

"I know that the two of you have been through a lot together, and I know that the following months will be tough for the two of you. But you have each other, and that will be enough. I've watched the dynamics between the two of you for years, and I can't say how happy I am that both of you have found happiness with each other." She smiled again. "Tom… B'Elanna… you've come such a long way from where you started. I wish you peace and luck for the rest of your journey. Godspeed." The recording ended.

B'Elanna found it hard to breathe. She'd known it would be hard, but she hadn't expected the intensity of this. She guessed she wasn't truly ready to say her final farewell to this woman who'd shaped her life and her philosophies so deeply for the past half-decade or so. "She'll never get to see our daughter," she told Tom softly.

Seven said nothing, and B'Elanna glanced up at her, feeling bereft. "Did you know that? Our daughter will never get to meet her, or get to know what a great woman she was." 

"There'll always be the legends," said Seven softly in reply as she handed the padd she was holding to B'Elanna. "Congratulations on the conception of your child." And she exited the room to leave the couple to their own thoughts.

She entered Sickbay and the doctor was there, working in his office like his life depended on it, barely glancing up when she came in. She paused in front of his door and angled her face inquisitively at him. "Doctor?" 

He looked up at her and smiled grimly. "Is there something wrong, Seven?" 

She walked over to his desk and slipped the padd she was holding onto it. The Doctor was obviously in great distress. "You seem upset." 

He put down the work he was doing and sighed. "How could I not be? I planted that bomb, didn't I?" 

Seven faced him with certainty. "You were acting against the wills of your ethical subroutines. You cannot be blamed." 

He glanced vacantly into the air. "I should have realized earlier. It was all my fault." 

"Even if you had realized the fact earlier, there was nothing we could have done," Seven pointed out. 

He sighed. "What made her do it?" He wondered aloud. 

Seven tilted her head slightly to one side. "She loved the ship. She loved the crew. She didn't want any of us to get harmed." 

The Doctor nodded, then picked up the padd she had put on the table. "What's this?" He asked her.

"An… alternative plan." 

He briefly scanned through it. "You really miss her, don't you." 

Seven took a deep breath, trying to suppress the tear that welled up in her eye. "You cannot imagine how it feels." She clenched and unclenched her fist, trying to find a way to express what she felt. "She took me in when nobody would, refused to give up on me and taught me so much. I owe her so much, and I …" she clenched her jaw in anger. "I left her behind on the Jem'Hadar ship!" 

The Doctor stood up and took her hand gently. "Now look who's blaming herself for something she couldn't avoid doing." 

Seven afforded him a crooked smile. "She was like a mother to me." 

"I know. But there's nothing much we can do about it now, can we? Grieving endlessly isn't going to bring her back." 

"No, it doesn't. And I do not intend to grieve any longer." She picked the padd up and placed in his hand. "Please read this." She smiled sadly at him and left his office.

Later that day she stood in the Mess Hall by the observation ports. Beside the replicator unit, a hundred and forty white roses lined the deck, overflowing onto tables and chairs, placed beneath a new metallic plaque set into the wall with a single name written on it, followed by a few lines of poetry by June Yang. Seven stood by the memorial for a long period of time, pondering. Eventually Neelix came to her side. "I read your report," he told her. "It was… is… a daring plan." 

"Do you think it might have worked? Or will work?" Seven asked him.

Neelix glanced thoughtfully up at her. "I don't know. I'm not an expert in that area." 

Seven glanced at the chrono on the wall. "The alpha shift should be arriving soon." And true to her words, Tuvok entered the Mess Hall at that moment, followed by Harry, who looked more nervous and vulnerable than usual. They gathered around the long table, and Seven and Neelix joined them. Soon B'Elanna and Tom had arrived, hand in hand, with the Doctor. Tom held B'Elanna's waist protectively as he helped her settle in her seat. Chakotay was the last to arrive. By this time the Mess Hall was already teeming with officers taking a break after their duty shifts. Even Icheb and Naomi had come to talk and mingle with the crowd.

Chakotay faced Seven first. "I gave your proposal a lot of thought," he told her, "and the answer is yes." He looked down at his feet. "She knew, you know, that night she came to me. And she tried to make things right." 

Seven nodded, feeling a strange thrill of adrenaline down her spine.

"And I guess things more or less turned out right after all, just as she said it would. We pulled through, and in the meantime, we're not going to stray off our original mission: to get us all home." The new captain smiled at his senior crew as he sat in his seat. "She said we would have nothing to worry about as long as we stay together as a crew. Dinner, anyone?" 

"Why not, we're starving." 

"I've got a splendid Pendari meat dish I prepared in the gallery. I'll go get it." 

"Did anyone see that piece of information from the Alpha Quadrant? They said they might just be a few steps away from bringing us back home." 

"They _did_? Where?" 

"It was in the official quarterly report from the _Voyager_ Project branch of Starfleet Research. I believe your father heads that project." 

"Dang! I knew I'd missed something in those reports." 

"You're visually impaired, Tom Paris." 

"Both his eyes still seem to be fully functional." 

"They are. The part that isn't functioning is his brain." 

"Hey! That was uncalled for." 

"But it's true!" 

"B'Elanna! I can't believe you're siding him on this." 

"Here it is! Doesn't it smell good?" 

"Neelix, that doesn't look like meat… more like the remains of a shuttle that's been immersed in plasma coolant." 

"Come on, Captain. Give it a try. I'm sure you'll love it!" 

"Really, Mr. Neelix. I must question the nutritional value of some of the more… dubious things you produce from your kitchen. Fortunately for me I am not equipped with a stomach." 

"One thing I know: if I eat this, I'm going to be violently sick in the morning." 

"Hey… speaking of morning sickness… did anyone know that B'Elanna's pregnant?" 

"She is? Wow! Congratulations. You two sure work fast."

"I'll take that as a compliment." 

"You should." 

"Keep out of this captain. It's between Harry and myself." 

"So! Another generation has begun on our ship!" 

"It would appear so. Would that be a son or a daughter, Lieutenant?" 

"A daughter. We haven't decided on a name yet. I thought of naming her after Captain Janeway." 

"Sounds good." 

"Hey… maybe you could appoint Seven as her godmother." 

"Don't get any funny ideas, Harry…" 

"But seriously, don't you think it's a good idea, Tom?"

"If it's fine with you, honey, it's fine with me…" 

"I would be flattered." 

"So when is the baby due?" 

"In a few months. It's going to be hectic trying to prepare ourselves for a new lifeform on this ship." 

"Don't worry, we'll all be there to help you." 

"Affirmative." 

And the evening went, all of them seated down for dinner and talking through the night like a group of old friends who enjoyed nothing more than each other's company. Life still went on even after a disaster. Life always went on.

And maybe the hurting would eventually disappear over time.

__

As the angel finished the tale there were tears in the child's eyes. "She died!" exclaimed the girl. "That was so sad! And they all had to try to live on after that. And the worst part was, she didn't have to die…" She gathered the sheets around her. "Was it hard for them?" 

"Yes, it was." 

"But they made it home, didn't they? Just as she said they would." 

"I don't know. That part is entirely up to you. You'll have the power to change the way the story ends." 

The child frowned at the angel. "I do? So I'm going to be a writer when I grow up and write this story?" She paused. "That wasn't a true story, was it?" 

"I hope not." 

"What am I supposed to do with this story? Why did you tell it to me anyway? Don't angels always do things for a reason?" 

"Remember it. Don't bother yourself with the details. Just remember the moral of the story." The angel brushed the child's hair gently. 

"What's the moral then?" 

"Did you not realize? The moral was that there was another way out… another solution, another alternative." 

"The one about using the tricobalt device." The child struggled with the new word.

"Yes. Remember that there was always an alternative. Promise me that you won't forget." 

"Always an alternative… always an alternative…" The child shut her eyes, conscripting the phrase to memory. Then she gazed up at the angel, who had gotten up. "Are you going to tell me another story?" 

"I'm afraid not. I must leave now. I have other matters to attend to." 

The child's eyes grew wide. "Then will I ever see you again?" 

The angel's blue eyes sparkled with sudden tears. "Yes," she said softly. "Yes, I hope I will." 

The child lay down on her pillow. "Me too." 

"Remember." The angel leaned over to tuck her in the final time. "Please remember. It may one day save your life." 

"I promise I will." 

The angel kissed the girl gently. "Good night, Kathryn." 

Kathryn Janeway snuggled deeply into her blankets and smiled to herself. As she drifted off to sleep, she vaguely saw the angel tap the shiny brooch she wore and say, "Seven of Nine to Voyager_. One to beam up…" _


	6. Epilogue

****

What Legacies You Leave Behind (Epilogue)

- A_ Voyager_ bedtime story

by Lt 17 of 26 aka fROzen TaTTooGaL™ (MERSTS)

__

****

Epilogue

__

Seven of Nine's Log, Supplemental, Stardate 54403.5: Personally, I find it surprising that Captain Chakotay allowed me to continue with my current course of action as it involves violation of the temporal prime directive. I can only hope that I will succeed. I cannot afford to let everyone down a second time.

Seven of Nine's Log, Supplemental, Stardate 54523.7: I must also mention that I am experiencing some difficulties in attempting to communicate with Captain Janeway. I face not only face the task of trying to educate her on a sensible course of action in the future, but also of minimizing the breaking of the Prime Directive. To be honest with myself, I do not have any idea as to how this mission will end. I can only pray that it will end in success. But I must hurry- Chakotay telles me the temporal instability cuased by immersing the ship in the flux field is causing fractures in the fabric of space- time, relasing an undue amount of subspace neutrinos and chronotons. I do not know what adverse effects it will have on our ship. Tuvok is postulating that it may cause temporal fractures in the space surrounding our ship. I must attempt to work faster.

Seven of Nine's Log, Supplemental, Stardate 54403.5: It has been three days since our final showdown with the Jem'Hadar, yet the incident still disturbs me. I find the sentiment incomprehensible. It is true that the battle plan we chose was fraught with unknowns, but I feel that I have been unduly… traumatized by the event.

I have spoken to Captain Janeway about this, and it seems that she too has been disturbed by the incident, although not in the same manner as I am. She tells me that I am right when I say that tricobalt devices are not usually part of a ship's weapons arsenal. She had them put there for reasons unknown, citing a fascination with the devices since she "was a child". I suppose it was fortunate for us that the tricobalt devices were there. I do not like to think about what we might have had to do if we had no other alternative. What bothers the captain is that she seems to remember this incident from the memory of a legend she was told when she was a child. She had already forgotten the details, but she remembered that there was an alternative plan which saved the heroes. 

Then she asked me if I believed in angels. I did not see the point of her query then and I still do not comprehend it. The captain remembers that once in her life what she thought was an apparition appeared to her in the night and retold her a story. She is fairly sure that it is the same one which mirrored our situation several days ago. It may be pure coincidence, but she remembers the apparition told her that the information may one day save her life, which it did. This unnerves and intrigues her, and to a certain extent, it intrigues me as well.

If angels truly exist, I do not know how I should respond appropriately to this phenomenon. Humans believe that each person has a guardian angel who watches over that person and keeps him or her from harm. Perhaps it is merely a myth, the embodiment of all that is positive about human behaviors and morals in a triumph over evil and the forces of darkness. Or perhaps angels are real people who go out of their way to express their concern for another person, taking care of his or her welfare. It makes me wonder. Could such kind of passion and dedication ever come from me? Could I ever care about someone as much as the unknown person did for the captain? I am hoping that the answer is yes…

****

_____________The End_____________

__


End file.
